Lend Me Your Hand
by ELClemons
Summary: Sometimes brokenness needs more than time to heal. Sometimes you need to go on a journey somewhere new to find hope again. And sometimes it's as simple as having a hand to hold, a person to go through it with you. For Edmund and Hermione, the last thing they expected to need, was each other. The Witch was dead, but his battle was far from finished and hers was just beginning.
1. It Happened at King's Cross

King's Cross Station, Fall 1994

Hermione had an atrocious headache. It'd been growing steadily worse as the morning dragged onward. She loved the Weasleys, bless them all, but she was most definitely not used to the noise, even after knowing them five years.

"—Mione'll help me study, won't you?"

"Of course, Ronald," she replied automatically, not really paying attention to the conversation around her. Unknown to her, Harry had narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously due to her uncharacteristic response.

"What, Mione," he teased gently, "No quips about how it's our O.W.L.s and it's the 'most important test of our lives?'"

They continued down a small flight of stairs and further up the platform. Her head felt so heavy. Perhaps she was coming down with a cold? Perhaps she could close her eyes for a bit on the train. She idly wondered if she ought to get some pepper-up from Madame Pomfrey before the feast to help her make it through the rest of the night. She tightened her grip on the strap of her book bag. "Just make it to the compartment, Granger." She thought to herself.

Someone roughly pushed their way past her, jostling her shoulder. Her book bag fell. They laughed, cackling. She cringed, what an awful sound, how anyone could find it attractive, Hermione would never know. "Looks like you added a few pounds…have a nice holiday, Mudblood," asked Pansy Parkinson in a sickeningly sweet, and utterly fake tone of voice. She leaned forward, and hissed, "Hope you enjoyed it. It's likely to be your last." A lump formed in her throat unexpectedly. Hermione who was usually full of decent retorts for Pansy and her ilk, couldn't seem to find her voice.

"Or yours Parkinson…if you keep skipping meals," snapped Ginny, coming up behind her. "You'll just slip down the drain the next time you attempt to bathe in that nauseating scent you call perfume." Thank Merlin for Ginerva Weasley's perfect timing. Hermione heard Harry attempt to disguise his guffaws with a fake cough. Ginny knelt down and picked up a book that had fallen from her bag. Hermione bit back a smile, throwing her bag back over her shoulder.

"Thanks, Gin," she muttered as she tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. Pansy stalked off with her friends, glaring daggers at them as they went.

"Bitch…" Ginny mumbled under her breath. "Come on, let's get on the train before all the good compartments are gone." She pulled at both Harry and Hermione's arms attempting to drag them toward the Hogwart's Express. Harry went ridged next to Hermione. A strange sensation rolled up the length of her spine, filling the pit of her stomach with dread. She turned toward her best friend, "Harry?"

BANG! Shrieks of panic and surprise erupted along the platform. Flashes of violet and green light shot out of several wands, though in the chaos no one could tell where they'd come from or who sent them. A chunk of stone went flying off of the barrier, hurtling toward the scarlet steam engine. Parent's tucked small children under their arms. Several Aurors whipped out their wands. There was shouting and running, people pushing and shoving past them. Unknown to her, one chunk of brick was sailing through the air right towards her.

"Hermione MOVE!" Harry yelled at her. He was no longer beside her, having been pulled away from her in the chaos. Harry passed Ginny off to George, who'd come to their aid, and seemingly leapt through the crowd towards her. Hermione barely registered what happened before Harry slammed into her and they both went hurtling toward the concrete ground.

Her world started spinning around her. Colors blurred together as everything around them disappeared at warp speed. Her eyes widened and she tugged loose a familiar gold chain from underneath her blouse. Her Time Turner was spinning and twisting madly, glowing red.

"Harry," she whispered, beginning to now properly panic. Green eyes met brown.

"What!" he roared, immediately recognizing the trinket.

"I—" she didn't have time to finish, Harry's face was growing blurrier by the second. He grabbed her wrist, "NO!"

"Like _hell_ are you disappearing on your own to _Merlin_ knows when!"

Everything went dark around them.

Kings Cross Station, Fall 1941

"FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT!" roared the crowd of unruly students,

"Edmund! Don't—" called Lucy's voice after him. He ignored her, intently focused on getting to his brother. There was no way that he was going to let Peter fight those bullies on his own. They'd beat him to a pulp, they already had.

He caught a glimpse of Peter who was roughly thrown against the wall. He was too close to the platform. They had Peter cornered. Onto the rails or against the wall. One boy held Peter against the wall, while another boy went to swing his fist. Peter ducked the fist just as Edmund leapt on top of the boy trying to hold him. Unfortunately, Edmund went sailing into the wall as Peter rolled away to avoid the punch. He idly thought that Peter certainly hadn't lost his fighting technique. Neither of them had, really. The Professor made sure they kept up with their training over the summer. Edmund took a fist straight to his gut in Peter's place, immediately snapped out of his musings. He crumpled at the sudden impact.

Edmund clutched at his stomach, trying to take in gulps of air, seemingly none of it entered his starving lungs. He lost awareness of what was happening at this point. There was a loud BANG. He felt the impact of stone against the back of his head and someone slamming into him from the side. The crowd of students screamed; a whistle blew. Then a shout for help. Peter yelling for someone to get off of him. His vision swam for a second, colors and sounds buzzing around his head. And suddenly he was in the middle of a blood-soaked field, clutching weakly at the grass beneath his fingertips, pain shooting all up from his stomach into his chest, crushing the oxygen out of him with every shallow breath. He was dying…

"ED!" Edmund felt a warm hand grip his shoulder and shake him gently. "Edmund, it's alright!" He opened his eyes. Concerned light blues met his dark brown eyes. Peter. The spasms in his chest halted. "Just breath with me Ed." He did as he was told. In and out; in and out until he calmed. He regained awareness of his surroundings. His head was pounding.

"My head," he mumbled. The crowd of students parted. The police were breaking up the fight. Lucy gazed down at him in concern. Susan's face came into view as well.

"What was it this time?" asked Susan gently as Lucy probed the back of his head for sign of injury.

"It was Beruna, wasn't it?" asked Peter quietly, "You haven't frozen like that for years." Edmund nodded weakly, as Peter helped him to his feet. They shuffled over to the bench all of their stuff was sitting by. Peter turned away from him toward a tall boy in a school uniform, though it looked very different than theirs. He had dark and messy hair, bright green eyes, and a nasty lighting bolt scar across half his forehead. Peter held out his hand for the boy to shake.

"You have my thanks," Peter said a touch too regally. Susan rolled her eyes at his words, but was smiling softly. "What's your name?"

"Harry." He took Peter's hand and they shook once. "I hate bullies. It wasn't a problem." Edmund frowned, unsure of what had occurred once he hit the ground. Lucy guided him on to the bench.

"I'm fine Lu," he said, weakly attempting to shrug her hand off of his shoulder.

"Is your friend alright?" Peter asked Harry, gesturing to a girl sitting on Lucy's other side. Edmund hadn't noticed her before. She was in a uniform similar to Harry's. Black with red and gold. He started at the red lion crest. She was very pretty. She had shoulder length chestnut-brown curly hair and creamy light skin with rosy cheeks, like Susan's, but had a smattering of freckles across her nose. Her eyes were colored like whisky with tints of warm honey-gold in them. She was just a few inches taller than Lucy, but looked closer to his and Susan's age, as did her friend.

"She's a bit scraped up and had a hard landing, but fine, I think. Mione?" asked Harry. She nodded, rubbing her shoulder subconsciously.

"Hard landing?" inquired Peter.

"The crowd was a bit rough," she mumbled in answer.

"What did the police show up for?" asked Edmund suddenly, remembering the loud bang.

"A car back-fired in the street," said Susan, "But everyone is still jumpy due to the raids."

"Raids?" asked Harry with a frown. Edmund eyed him suspiciously at the question.

"The air raids," replied Edmund, finding his voice after a second. "We were able to visit home a week before school. Supposedly the worst of it is over now, but most kids are still being shipped out incase the Germans get nasty again." He watched for Harry's reaction, which was to turn to the girl on the other side of Lucy, who had paled considerably.

"Hermione?" Harry was at her side in seconds, whispering rapidly under his breath. "Please don't freak out, I need you to stay calm."

"It's the bloody Second World War, Harry." She hissed at him. "We can't have gone that far back…we may not be able to get home!"

Peter looked concerned at the comment but Susan remained strangely calm even as Hermione's tone of voice grew more nervous. Edmund nudged Lucy, and whispered under his breath, "Did you check her head too?"

"Oh, I didn't think to. I was rather worried about you Ed." Lucy said.

"Well go on then," gestured Edmund.

"Are you sure you're okay Ed? You still look a bit pale."

"I'm fine Lu, remember what Aslan said…" he whispered this quietly to her, "There are others that need your attention." Lucy's eyes widened at the comment, she immediately turned to help calm Hermione, before turning back quickly to Edmund.

"No need to shove, Ed," snapped Lucy impatiently.

"I didn't." He frowned, feeling a sharp tug on his arm. He turned, thinking perhaps it was Peter. He jumped up at as a second tug pulled on him, "Pete, you can let go. I said I'm—"

"—I'm not touching you!" Peter said sharply. "Ow. Susan!"

"What is that?"

"It feels like magic!" said Lucy excitedly. "Oh Peter, do you think—"

"Hermione! What are you doing—"

"It's not me, Harry!"

Edmund's eyes widened in shock as the whole platform began to shake, a strong wind barreled through the station. Tiles began ripping off of the platform walls and ceiling. The lights banged into the ceiling of the platform, breaking off chunks of brick. He dodged a recruitment poster peeling off the wall behind him. Colors began to blur. He barely made out Peter's voice calling out to them all, "Catch hands everyone! Stay together!" A train rolled past them at high speed, whistling as it went. Edmund couldn't help but stare. The railway station was rapidly disappearing and in its place was a sight he would never be able to forget.

The air storm that sucked them away from the platform quieted into a gentle breeze, whispering to him like an old friend. Everything stilled. The scent hit him first. It was sweet, like the ripest summer fruit, smooth and floral, fresh, crisp, and clear. He could taste salt on his lips. He took a deep breath in contentment and couldn't help but grin widely as well. It felt like coming home.

They were tucked just inside of a small grotto that opened up to the most beautiful beach Edmund had ever seen. The sun was burning so brightly in the sky that it lit up the sand, making it gleam almost gold, but a deep rich tawny gold that reminded him of Aslan. He held a hand up to shield his eyes from the brightness of the sun. He caught Lucy throwing an impish grin at Susan, who smiled in return and bolted off toward the water. Lucy sprinted behind her shucking off layers of her uniform as she went, shrieking in delight as Susan splashed her with the, likely freezing, sea water. Peter was running after them as well, intent on joining in their celebration.

"Bet you aren't as fast as me Ed!" Peter called as he ran. He bolted after Peter completely forgetting in the moment that he'd nearly been beaten to a pulp earlier, and he also completely forgot that his family had unwittingly brought two strangers along with them.

Hermione stood rooted to the ground in shock, watching the Pevensie family play in the water. Part of her…the illogical, stressed out part of her, really wanted to join them. But she couldn't get herself to move. Harry wasn't much better off than her.

"Please tell me that you have an explanation for this 'Mione." He said. She shook her head no, feeling a bit numb. He rounded on her. "What the hell just happened?" he asked suddenly, "I thought you turned that bloody time-turner in after our third year was over!"

"I was going to, but Dumbledore told me to hang on to it. He said I may need it again!" she protested weakly. Some of the fight left him, and he quieted. He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up badly.

"Bloody Hell…" he muttered. "What are we gonna do?" His voice notched in volume, "1941 and now we are in the middle of nowhere. What about the Weasley's? Do you think Ron and Ginny are alright?" Harry continued to ramble anxiously, but most of it went on unheard by Hermione. "We're going to be in so much trouble when we miss the train…"

"Harry!" she nearly screeched, he jumped. "Stop. I don't know alright! Contrary to popular belief, I don't know everything!" She started pacing, marking a path in the wet sand as she went. "What possessed you to get involved in that fight Harry?" she asked, "We might not even be here, where ever that is, if you hadn't."

He stiffened at her question. "So, this is my fault?" he snapped, "What was I supposed to do, let the guy get beaten within an inch of his life?"

Hermione paled slightly at his comment. For being the brightest witch of her age, sometimes she forgot the obvious. _Of course_ Harry would jump in to the fray to defend someone. He wouldn't be Harry Potter if he hadn't. "No, of course not, I would have done the same." She deflated considerably.

He sighed and Hermione took a deep breath. "I just…I worry about you. You can be terribly reckless at times."

Harry snorted a little, she could tell by his uneasy smirk that he was somewhat focusing on their easy banter to keep himself from panicking about where the hell they were. "You worry about me? 'Mione, you can be just as reckless as I am. Taking twice as many classes as the rest of us and nearly landing yourself in St. Mungo's for a week due to exhaustion, riding a hippogriff, using a bloody mirror to avoid the Basilisk and getting petrified."

"I-," she swallowed her retort and blushed, knowing he was right.

"Need me to continue?" Harry teased. She rolled her eyes at him, but couldn't help the ridiculous smile creeping onto her face. "I rest my case." Harry finished suddenly looking serious.

"Look Hermione," he began again, "You know I can't stand bullies, we've all been on the other side of it far too much for me to not do anything. But I'll admit it was a bit stupid."

"Well, I'm glad you are alright, even if you did jump into a fist fight for a stranger."

"I couldn't exactly use magic, could I?"

"I hadn't thought of that." Replied Hermione.

"You are a muggleborn!" said Harry with a laugh. "How could you not think of it?"

She decided to not dignify his comment with a response. "Do you think we should tell them?" she asked turning her attention back to the situation at hand.

"No," said Harry resolutely, "At least, not yet."

"Why not?" asked Hermione, "Lucy said that it felt like magic that pulled us here. I don't think they'd have a tough time believing us about Hogwarts. And we may well be stuck with them if we can't get back to our own time. They are the only ones we know in this version of the world," reasoned Hermione.

Harry was quiet a minute. "I think we can trust them, but let's just hold off for a bit until we know more about what is going on."

"I'm impressed Harry," smirked Hermione. He was using his brain for once. She didn't mean to think it, but it was often this way between them when Ron wasn't around. Harry was smarter than he led others to believe. She only wished he'd try harder at school, and maybe defend her once and awhile against Ronald's ridiculous accusations that popped up from time to time.

Harry shrugged, "I don't know where we are…but this place, I feel more like myself than ever…even at Hogwarts." She was sure her jaw dropped at his comment. He shook his head, "Maybe it's because I'm not being hunted down by a maniac in this timeline… but it's like I've had a bad head cold all my life and it's suddenly gone. I can think clearer."

Now she was curious. Harry didn't make comments like that. "What do you mean by that?" she questioned. He pulled his gaze away from watching the Pevensies, and looked her in the eye.

"Dunno really. It's just, I feel lighter, freer."

"Interesting." She pressed her mouth into a firm line, filing that bit of information away to think about later.

"We ought to join them." Said Harry with a strange glint in his eye. She glared at him suspiciously.

"I'm not getting wet. These are the only clothes I have—" Before she could say another word Harry scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder, running full speed at the water.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER! You put me down at once!" she screamed, pounding his back with her fists. He just dumped her in the water instead.

Her mouth hung open, stunned from the cold of the sea and oh, he was wearing that stupid grin! She narrowed her eyes at him and pulled him down into the water with her. She stood up as with as much dignity as possible and brushed off her damp skirt as if it had never happened, resolutely marching towards the shore.

"Oh, come on!" Harry called after her, sitting up in the water. "No need to be such a swotty bookworm." She stopped, turned on her heel, and tackled him into the water, head under and all. They both came up spluttering. He was grinning like an idiot, as he smoothed his wet hair away from his forehead. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen him so care free.

"I'm not a swot," she said fighting back a smile. Harry smirked and tugged on a stray curl, she swatted his hand away from her hair, finally laughing with him.

"I know," he replied. "Are we good then?"

"Yes, of course." She stood up and offered Harry a hand up.

"See you two finally joined in," said Peter from a few feet away. Hermione smiled at him. She was completely soaked through, nothing a discreet drying charm wouldn't cure of course.

"Ed? Ed!" called Susan. He'd stopped splashing with the rest of them. Edmund was a way off from them, he held up a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. He was staring up at the cliffside. Hermione followed his gaze. Blinking rapidly at the brightness.

"Where do you suppose we are?" he called to his siblings.

Peter laughed as if it was the most ridiculous question possible. "Well, where d'you think?"

Edmund frowned at Peter, "It's just…I don't remember any ruins in Narnia." He pointed his brother toward the cliffside. They all fell silent. Lucy and Susan waded their way towards the rest of them also looking the direction Edmund pointed.

"Narnia?" asked Harry.

"What's that?" Hermione added, completing her best friend's question. The Pevensies all turned to stare at them. They shot odd looks at one another, as if they'd only just realized that they'd unintentionally brought guests along.


	2. Cair Paravel

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who has followed, favorited, or reviewed. I appreciate it and your words are encouraging. Special shout out to InkStainedAnomaly for all of your help brainstorming. Ages are as follows: Peter- 18, Susan- 17, Edmund- 15 (almost 16), Lucy- 13, Harry- 15, Hermione- 16 (newly).**

**Chapter 2: Cair Paravel**

To their credit, the Pevensies did their best to explain to Hermione and Harry about being sent out of London to Professor Kirke's house and how they found a wardrobe that was actually a door to Narnia. Lucy talked about having tea with a faun, and Susan told them about the Beavers. Peter told them the story of his first battle, and being knighted by Aslan himself afterwards. Edmund was quiet throughout their explanation. His eyes never left the path before him. He navigated their party onward toward the castle ruins while his siblings told about the beautiful world they discovered in the back of an upstairs wardrobe.

His earliest memories of Narnia were not ones that he enjoyed retelling. Sometimes he envied their experience, and yet he wouldn't change his own even if it spared him the pain. For the most part, Edmund believed himself to be a better man because of what he'd gone through. But he didn't like to think of the person he was before he became a king, to remember the shame and the guilt.

The heat of the day was almost at its peak. Edmund loosened his tie. Sweat was beginning to collect on the back of his neck. They were climbing now, up a grassy knoll. They should be quite close to the ruins now. He hoped they could find fresh water. The sun bathed the forest in a warm and rich gold. The sea breeze blew at limbs rustling leaves together. It was like a song. Edmund took a deep breath, the closer they got to the ruins, the more it felt like home, but he didn't want to be disappointed.

"Look!" called Susan. Edmund stopped and turned back toward her voice. She pointed up at a huge apple tree in front of them. Peter and Harry climbed further up the hill toward the tree, leaving him at the back of their party now, with only Hermione trudging wearily behind him. Her eyes were screwed shut and she was rubbing her temples. He frowned.

"Lucy!" Peter called down to them. He tossed an apple at her. She caught it and grinned adoringly at Peter. Those two. He couldn't help but smile a bit. Peter doted on her, in truth they all did really.

"I don't suppose anyone still has those sandwiches with them?" she asked as she took a bite of the apple.

"Well," Peter said dramatically, turning to their little sister. "I left them in my bag, and I left my bag at the train station…and I left the train station…in England."

Hermione looked utterly dismayed and froze in place, "We aren't in England anymore?"

"Not likely," Peter said giving Lucy a goofy grin and offering his hand. Lucy took it and followed him up the rest of the hill. Harry and Susan soon disappeared over the summit as well.

Edmund took a few more steps before he realized that Hermione still hadn't moved. She was clutching her head again. He looked at the large apple tree. They were rather nice apples really, about the size of a cricket ball and perfectly ripe. He plucked two from a lower hanging branch.

Edmund regarded Hermione quietly. He couldn't begin to imagine how she felt in all of this. Certainly confused. She struck Edmund as the kind of girl who was probably a bit frightened, and one look in her eyes told him this was true, but she wasn't scared for herself. He saw bravery in her eyes and a lot of determination, but uncertainty. She didn't like not knowing…now that, that frightened her.  
He held out an apple to her. It was a peace offering, a silent, hopeful plead to just trust him, trust his family. She looked up at his extended hand. She took it, a faint smile graced her lips and then disappeared. He felt the corners of his mouth tilt up in a reassuring smile.

oOoOo

"I wonder who lived here?" Lucy questioned, turning around to face Susan, whose hair had finally completely fallen out of its immaculate styling from earlier. It fell in long dark waves. Hermione felt a shock of envy run through her. What she wouldn't give for her hair to look that lovely after romping around in the ocean. It was probably an unmanageable mass of frizz now.

Both Susan and Lucy had a curious look on their faces, as if they were working hard to remember something that they'd forgotten that they'd forgotten." Hermione grasped her apple and took a small bite out of it. She glanced at Harry out of the corner of her eye. He was kneeling down, digging something out of the damp soil. It glinted in the soft afternoon sunlight.

"What is it Harry?" she asked just as he stood up. He was rubbing dirt off of a golden knight with little ruby gems as eyes.

"Lucy." Susan gasped upon seeing it, her eyes widened in surprise, "I think _we_ lived here."

"That's not possible," snapped Hermione unintentionally. Susan jumped slightly at her tone of voice. "This place is ancient." She amended, "Logically it's impossible. You'd have to be, what, thirteen-hundred years old?" It wasn't possible, that they could have been here living in a ruined city when it was thriving, the Pevensies were too young and the ruins too old.

"She doesn't understand Susan." Said Lucy softly, patting her sister's shoulder. Hermione bristled at the comment. She was the brightest witch of her age, of course she could understand, it was logic! Before Hermione could say another word, Edmund and Peter rejoined them.

"Hey that's mine!" exclaimed Edmund suddenly, taking the knight from Harry's hand. "From my chess set."

"Which chess set?" Peter asked. Edmund shot him a half-amused smirk.

"Well, I didn't exactly have a solid gold chess set back in Finchley, did I?" Peter snapped his mouth shut at the comment. Whether it was because he couldn't argue with Edmund's quip or if he chose not to say anything, Hermione was unsure. Edmund winked at her so quickly that she nearly missed it. He went back to examining the golden knight. It took her a moment to realize that he was teasing her. Apparently, he did have some sense of humor, perhaps just drier than she anticipated. She was beginning to wonder.

"It can't be…" whispered Lucy, gazing off toward a higher part of the ruins, not but several paces away from where their group had congregated. She pushed passed them.

"Lucy!" Peter called after her, following behind. Harry and Hermione followed them from there. She was up on a sort of dais, where the remains of what looked like they might have been stone chairs sat. Broken columns lined either side of the dais. Lucy dragged Peter up the platform and stopped him right in front of one of the broken stone chairs. She did the same to all the rest of her siblings and Hermione realized that there were enough chairs for each of them, excluding her and Harry.

"Don't you see?" Lucy asked excitedly. "Imagine walls! And columns there, and a glass roof, with a huge stained-glass window behind us." The four fell silent. Dawning looks of realization, awe, nostalgia, and sadness came upon their faces. A chill ran up the length of Hermione's spine. In a flash, for just half a second, she could have sworn that she'd seen crowns on all of their heads, and huge velvet capes draped over their shoulders. She blinked and the vision disappeared.

"Cair Paravel," whispered Peter reverently. The atmosphere around them seemed to grow heavy the moment those words left Peter's lips. As if the ruins themselves needed to hear Peter utter them. And yet it was as if a little more life was injected into the place, even though it felt like a ghost town to Hermione. Then for another half-second she envisioned their beloved Hogwarts in ruined shambles. The thought made her eyes water. Her logical mind was having a difficult time not believing them with each passing moment.

"What happened here?" Susan asked, her voice shaking and watery. "How could they have let this happen?"

"If this really is Cair Paravel—" began Edmund. Hermione felt herself relax at his comment. At least one of them was being sensible. Come to think of it, Edmund hadn't said a word while his siblings explained about how they came to Narnia, and none of the others spoke about his part in the discovery.

"Edmund!" gasped Lucy in horror.

"I'm not doubting you Lu, or Aslan," He replied firmly. She deflated a little, perhaps she was the only sensible one there after all. "But we have to be sure. If this really is Narnia, and this really was our home, then something went on here that destroyed everything we worked for during our reign. We need all the facts before we go charging in. Who knows what we were called back for? We need to be prepared for the worst, Lu." Edmund said seriously. She couldn't fault his logic, even if the whole thing seemed a bit mad.

"Ed's right Lucy," said Peter, snapping out of his reverie. "I know you're happy to be back, but Aslan's not here. What if there's another prophecy? Another war to fight? We have to prepare ourselves for a Narnia that we no longer know."

Hermione wasn't one for putting stock in divination, prophecy, or seers for that matter. The future was always in flux and she didn't believe in fate. Harry's head jerked up at the mention of a prophecy. Hermione caught a slight glint of wild panic in his eyes. She suddenly felt heavier. She didn't believe, but Harry certainly did. There was no way she was going to let him get wrapped up in something this absurd and potentially dangerous. He already had the weight of the world on him back home. She grasped his hand tightly. Trying to convey her thoughts to him without saying what both of them feared.

Hermione was pulled from her thoughts as Susan's voice cut through the brief pause in conversation. "The treasure chamber." Lucy looked excited at the suggestion.

"If it's not completely sacked like the rest of the place," said Peter. "The entrance was hidden, there's no telling if it was discovered or not."

"It's worth a look though," said Edmund, "All of our armor was stored down there. We'll need that at the very least."

Hermione could stand it no longer. "And what about us?" she snapped. "You've brought us along in all of this, and haven't really told us anything!" She directed her comment at Edmund, who didn't flinch at her accusing tone. She was holding onto his silence as if it were the last bit of her sanity. No one seemed to notice the exchange between them.

"We've told you about the Wardrobe," said Lucy with a frown.

"There's more to it than that though, Lu, and you know it." Susan said, "We can't expect them to just take us at our word."

"But why not? Don't you believe us?" asked Lucy turning to Hermione.

"Of course, they don't." said Edmund quietly, "Think of it from their perspective Lu. They probably think we're mad..."

Peter raked a hand down his face, "We've told you everything we can for now, the rest would be quite a long story."

"Well, we've got the time," replied Harry darkly.

Susan veered off to the left, past the stone chairs and trotted down the steps toward the opening to what probably used to be a courtyard. She sighed. "Let's find the treasure chamber. If it's there we'll know for sure if this is Cair Paravel, then we will try to explain further." Peter followed her.

"I don't remember planting an orchard slap up against the courtyard wall," remarked Lucy, "Are you sure this is the right way Su?" asked Lucy. She'd led them back to where they'd found the apples earlier.

Edmund smirked at his sister's question. "Why Lucy, do you know her at all?" he said with a teasing grin. "Susan knew the palace even better than me, and that's saying something." He nudged her playfully. Hermione's breath caught. He wasn't denying it.

"And don't you forget it, Ed" Susan poked him in the ribs. Hermione noticed him flinch slightly at the contact. Up to that point she'd forgotten he'd been beaten up that morning. He was probably bruising. She narrowed her eyes at his attempt to save face. So…he had a bloody hero complex too. Keeping Harry's nose out of trouble was bad enough, without adding the Pevensie boys to her list. She had a sneaking suspicion that Susan was well equipped to handle them, but she wasn't going to take any chances, not if she was going to be stuck with them in a strange land.

She resolved to hunt through the forest later that day for any herbs that she could use. She might be in a different country or even a different world, but dammit if she wasn't going to be prepared for it!

"While you were off hiding in your personal library and Peter was playing war—" continued Susan.

"—I didn't _play_ at war…"

"Fine, while Peter was off _training _for war and Lucy was helping in the medical wards, _I _was running the country."

"And if you'll remember, we did plant an orchard," Peter added in a delayed response to Lucy, "It was the day before all the ambassadors came from Calormen."

Edmund's whole countenance darkened and Susan scowled. "On second thought, perhaps it's just as well that thirteen-hundred years have passed. I'd have marched all the way to Calormen and taken care of Rabbadash myself if he was still alive," muttered Edmund. Susan nodded her agreement, and all the while Hermione feeling like Alice falling deeper into Wonderland. Susan led them for a few more steps to a wall that was nearly completely covered with ivy.

"I don't suppose either of you have a pocket knife on you?" Susan asked her brothers. Peter pulled one out of his pocket in seconds.

"Don't go anywhere without one." He said. "Ed?"  
"Orieus' first rule: Never walk about unarmed." He pulled his knife out as well. The two of them made quick work of the ivy and had it cleared in a matter of minutes.

"I don't see a door," said Harry impatiently.

"Of course, you wouldn't." Hermione replied, thinking back to their first year and the trap door Fluffy guarded. "It's _hidden_."

There was a loud scraping sound. She peered around Lucy's small form to get a better look at what the Pevensie boys were doing. Both of them were grunting a bit as they forced their full weight against a moss-covered statue. As the statue slid away it revealed an ancient, rusty lock and handle on a heavy wooden door.

"Godric…" muttered Harry. Hermione felt much the same. She was bursting with curiosity. How could Susan have known there was a hidden door behind the ivy-covered statue if she hadn't been there before. Perhaps the rouge curse hitting her time-turner did more damage than they thought? Maybe they were the ones that accidently brought the Pevensies along to medieval Brittan not the other way around. But that wouldn't account for how the Pevensies knew their way around the ruined palace. Logic over panic Granger…

"It's locked tight," said Peter, sounding rather disappointed.

"The wood's completely rotten though, we can pull it to bits in seconds," replied Edmund.

Or perhaps the curse altered the primary function of the time-turner; not only sending them back in time, but altering one's memory of how history was meant to take place. Hermione started to twist a damp curl around her finger, completely lost in thought. She was startled out of her own head by the Pevensies all laughing suddenly.

"—might have mentioned that a bit sooner," said Peter with a slightly exasperated look on his face. Edmund had a cheeky grin on his face and a torch in hand. He flicked it on and descended into the chamber. Peter threw away his make-shift torch and gestured for his sisters to go on ahead of him. He turned to Hermione. "Are the two of you coming?"

He wore a patient expression, his sea-blue eyes were compassionate, as if he understood their utter confusion, as if he could sense their uneasiness at the entire situation. "I know this all seems impossible and you probably think we're mad or that you yourselves have gone mad…but I promise you that's not the case. Aslan must have a reason for sending you with us." He paused, "I give you my word of honor as High King of Narnia, that we will explain everything to the best of our ability and that you can trust us to look after you."

She nodded her understanding, "It's just completely…" Hermione was suddenly at a loss for what to say. Resignation.

Peter grinned. "Overwhelming?" he asked. "It was the same for us when we first came to Narnia. You are both doing remarkably well so far."

"You mentioned a prophecy before," said Harry cautiously, "I don't want to get caught up in anything that involves madmen trying to kill me."

Peter raised an eyebrow at the comment but said nothing. Hermione sighed and suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. Not that she didn't agree with Harry, but his delivery could have been better. "What Harry means is, that we just don't want to agree to anything blindly," she said diplomatically.

"I understand your hesitation," said Peter, "We'll do all we can to avoid further confusion on our end, I assure you." He bowed slightly to her, which took her aback. "Now, my lady," he gestured for Hermione to follow the staircase down that his sisters had descended earlier, "If you please…this is something you won't want to miss."

oOoOo

Harry and Hermione followed Peter down a set of fourteen steps onto a platform overlooking the treasure cavern. "Whoa!" said Harry. Hermione's eyes felt like they were about to pop out of her head, they were so wide. She'd never seen the likes of it, not even at Gringott's.

It was unbelievably dusty in the chamber, but bright shafts of light from above shone on the floor and chunks of broken stone, casting the space in a warm glow. Hermione almost couldn't make out what was sunlight and what was gold. There were bright sparkling piles of uncut, unset gemstones: rubies, sapphires, diamonds, and emeralds, some that she couldn't name and other's that she'd never seen before. There were full suits of armor, swords, shields made of solid gold; shelves of silver ware, goblets, platters. Off to the right of the Pevensie's chests was a shelf full of jewelry: necklaces, earrings, cornets, rings…There was even an extra trunk or two filled with rich table clothes, fabrics, dresses and tunics.

"I can't believe it," gasped Peter behind her. "It's all still here." He practically ran the rest of the way down a spiral staircase to the gate his siblings had already passed through.

"I was so tall!" exclaimed Lucy, holding up a beautiful golden-brown gown to Susan.

"Well, you were older then…" replied Susan with a smile.

"As opposed to hundreds of years later…when you're younger," quipped Edmund, taking off a helmet that was too big for him and tossing it aside. Susan's smile faded.

"What is it?" asked Hermione gently. She looked up from her trunk and shook her head pulling out a bow and a quiver of arrows. "My horn isn't here. It was a gift when I first came to Narnia," she explained to Hermione. "It's very special, but it also brings immediate help in the midst of grave danger."

"What? Like the Sorting Hat?" Harry asked Hermione quietly before speaking up. "I could use something like that," he said to Susan. "That could have been very useful around here." She nodded her silent agreement, before turning back to her chest.

The excited chatter died as Peter joined them. Past the gate was a chamber with four huge intricately carved oak and wrought iron chests. Behind each chest, carved of the whitest marble, stood a statue of a king or queen. Hermione inhaled sharply with surprise. The statues were carved with the exact likeness of every single Pevensie. Susan, Edmund, Lucy all fell quiet as Peter approached his own statue and chest. From Hermione's angle, it looked like Peter had bowed to his statue in a reverent moment of silence. Then he opened it.

She looked at Harry. He held himself stiffly, respectfully. So…he sensed it too, that feeling that you are stepping into something bigger than expected or that you are witnessing a moment, a glimpse of something significant to either the past or the future. She'd only ever seen him carry himself that way when Professor Dumbledore was speaking to him.

She turned back to Peter who had pulled a broadsword from a scarlet scabbard. It reminded her in an instant of the Sword of Gryffindor, or what Harry and Ron had told her of it anyway.

"When Aslan bares his teeth…" said Peter stoically, "Winter meets its death."

"And when He shakes his mane, we shall have spring again…" finished Lucy with unshed tears sparkling in her bright blue eyes. Everyone fell quiet.

It was Harry that broke the silence. "I think it's time you lot explained what's going on here.


	3. A Heart's Treasure

**A/N: I'm had such a difficult time with this chapter. So many important details to tuck in, and my characters weren't speaking to me for a few days. When they finally found their voices…I had no internet for a week. Enough of my excuses! I'm so sorry for the long wait, as repayment, here is an extra-long chapter. Reviews and questions are always welcome and appreciated.**

"_For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." Matthew 6:21 (NIV)_

**Chapter 3: A Heart's Treasure**

"You'll want to change out of that," Susan said, nodding at Hermione's still-damp school uniform. She looked down at herself. She had thought of trying a drying charm on herself and Harry once the Pevensies were out of sight, but she hadn't had an opportunity. She looked back up.

"I don't have anything else," she replied.

"Of course, you do!" Exclaimed Susan looking far too much like Lavender and Pavarti scheming to give Hermione a make-over for the yule ball. She took a step back nervously.

"Be nice Su," Edmund said from behind her teasingly.

"But—" she began.

"_Susan,_" added Peter with a slight warning to his voice. Upon seeing Susan's disappointed face, he amended his tone to one slightly gentler. "She's not a china doll; at least let her pick for herself."

"Well, alright…" Susan gestured Hermione over to her. She pulled several dresses from her trunk and began tossing a few at Lucy.

"Oh bother…" muttered Lucy. "Most of these aren't the right size for me anymore."

"There's older ones closer to the bottom," replied Susan. "What colors do you like Hermione?"

"Erm…"

"You look nice in pink." Supplied Harry with a shrug. Peter was digging through his armor trying to help Harry find something that would fit him. It was an odd sight, watching her best friend try on chainmail, breast plates, and other random pieces a knight would wear. She thought it suited him though. He'd already borrowed a light blue-gray shirt from Peter and some dark leather boots and as well as a pair of charcoal trousers from Edmund. He was too lean to fit into any of Peter's trousers but was rather built up through his chest from years of quidditch practice.

"I hate pink, Harry." She pointed out.

"Not that horrid stuff Lavender wears, but like that rose color you wore to the yule ball." He replied. She blushed at the comment. She'd started the night with every intention of filling her dance card. She'd even had her own late entrance, just like in the fairy tales she read as a little girl. But her fight with Ronald crumbled the dream, and before the clock struck midnight, she was back to being the know-it-all Gryffindor Princess…Merlin! She _hated _that nick-name. It was salt in an open wound. Hermione shook her self-deprecating thoughts out of her head, this was why she stuck to books. Books were safer than people; they were certainly kinder.

"Well, what about this?" Susan passed her a pale-yellow dress made from silky material. It had daisies embroidered into it. Her breath caught. She loved it.

"Won't it get ruined on a journey?" she forced herself to ask, handing it back to Susan reluctantly.

"It's Narnian made, the material is much tougher than it looks." Supplied Lucy. "Besides, that's just the under layer." She reached back into Susan's trunk and pulled a sand colored layer with a split skirt and more floral embroidery. "See?"

"But won't it be awfully difficult to move in with all that material?" She inquired. "And I'm not wearing a bloody corset." She added as an after-thought. Lucy laughed and Susan shrugged.

"You get used to the material. It's not so bad as you think." She said. Hermione looked at her skeptically. Susan seemed the type to follow the moto 'Beauty is Pain.' Lucy caught her uncertain look and rushed over to her own trunk.

"Don't worry, we won't force you into a corset," Lucy showed her a pair of comfortable looking trousers and riding boots. "Don't let Susan fool you, she's actually quite progressive." Lucy smiled brightly at Hermione, and cast a strange look over her shoulder towards Edmund. "What is it Ed?" Lucy inquired as she passed the trousers off to Hermione to join her brother.

"My books," he replied. Hermione wheeled around. He was digging further into his chest. "They're not here."

"What did you expect?" asked Peter, "Tumnus probably couldn't fit even a third of your library down here, let alone all of it."

"We're lucky any of our things are here to be honest." Added Susan, "And there is no telling the circumstances that caused them to need to hide our belongings in the first place."

"I expected them to save my journals at least." Edmund mumbled under his breath sounding put out and a bit glum all at once.

Harry leaned over to Hermione and whispered in her ear, "Never thought I'd meet another person who loved books as much as you." She rounded on him indignantly to smack him in the arm, but thought differently upon noticing that he was wearing arm braces and a gauntlet. He was grinning like a goblin in possession of a unique trinket. She settled for a silent glare and turned back to the girls.

"Oh Susan!" Lucy exclaimed, "I've found our coronation rings!" She passed a gold ring to Susan and put a smaller silver one on her right index finger.

"Do you have ours as well?" asked Edmund, coming to stand next to Lucy. She nodded eagerly and passed over his and Peter's.

"I know that there's a lot of memories down here for all of us," said Peter taking his ring from Lucy, "But we mustn't get carried away." He turned back to his trunk and pulled out a leather bag. He began to fill it with various things, a bag of coin, a spare dagger, a cloak.

"What about our chain mail?" Edmund asked.

"We could wear it, but it would be heavy, and quite hot in this heat."

"Just wear something lighter underneath it." Piped up Susan, "pack the formal bits just in case, you don't have to wear it all now."

"Harry," Peter said abruptly. "Have you ever used a sword?" he had a gleam in his eye that reminded her of the Weasley boys right before they jumped into a serious conversation about quidditch. She sighed.

"I'll just go change," she muttered and left to find some corner of the chamber that was quieter.

"We'll come with you," said Susan as she gathered up a few dresses. "You'll need help with the laces." Hermione sighed again. She had hoped for a moment of quiet to absorb everything. Susan and Lucy seemed to have no trouble shucking out of their wet school clothes and trying on various bits of their royal regalia. Hermione on the other hand was feeling assaulted by the slew of self-conscious thoughts popping up in her mind. How could she put something that pretty on and trapeze across a gorgeous land? She'd just as soon keep her uniform.

Hermione was abruptly cut off of her thoughts, as a dark red gown was tossed into her face. Susan was staring at Hermione with her hands on her hips.

"I know that look," she said sternly. "Before you say anything try it on, and this will be painless." Lucy snickered at her sister's choice of words. Hermione sighed and nodded.

"This first," said Lucy gently. The younger girl passed her a light-weight white dress that felt like silk on her skin, it slid over her head easily and had quarter sleeves. Lucy came around behind her and started lacing up the back. "Most Narnian dresses have two to three layers to them," she explained. "The underlayer, which is this. Essentially it's just a slip."

"The actual dress," said Susan, helping Hermione to pull on the burgundy red dress. It reminded her of autumn leaves, and sipping on mulled cider with the Weasleys around a campfire on their fall breaks. It was a very Gryffindor red, and Hermione begrudgingly found herself nodding along with Susan in approval of her choice. "This one is a heavier weight, more for the fall or winter, but also useful in battle."

Hermione was inspecting the gold-leaf embroidery on the hem. She jerked her head up at the word 'battle' and let the skirt drop to the ground. "We're not planning on going to battle, are we?"

"No one ever plans for it, Hermione," said Susan sagely, "but chances are that, yes, we may be doing a bit of fighting. Better to be prepared than caught unawares." Hermione couldn't help but agree with her on that. Lucy stepped away and let Susan have a go at a knot in one of the laces. "This used to be mine. It's got a concealed pocket here," she pointed to a pocket on Hermione's right, hidden in the folds. "Excellent for hiding a small dagger…or extra hair pins."

Hermione smiled at Susan's attempt to lighten her explanation. The top layer was rather simple, with a scooped neckline and quarter length sleeves. "It's a bit tight across my chest," Hermione said.

"Oh, I can loosen it a bit, but it's made that way so a mail shirt can fit over the top."

"We'll need to get her outfitted with armor, Susan." Added Lucy.

"So, I'm guessing the third layer is armor then?" asked Hermione, checking her range of motion in the unfamiliar clothes. The dress was less constricting than she expected.

Lucy shook her head, "Not necessarily," the girl shucked off her wet clothes and pulled a much smaller underdress over her head. Lucy's was made of the same material, but silvery-grey in color. "Sometimes there's a top, a vest, or a cloak that finish the look out. It just depends on the style you're aiming for."

Susan dusted her hands off on her school skirt and stepped back. "Well, if I had my way, I'd have the hem taken up a few centimeters, but so long as you can move in it without tripping, it should suffice." Susan loosened the laces at Hermione's waist and proceeded to help Lucy into the rest of her gown. "You can take that off now, be sure to pack it along for the journey."

"Which one are you wearing Susan?" Lucy inquired, digging through the pile of material for her shoes.

"The violet and mauve one," replied the older girl.

"Ooh, I like the daffodils!" said Lucy as she admired the design. Hermione smiled at Lucy's enthusiasm. It reminded her a bit of Ginny, the day the two of them had gone shopping for their yule ball gowns. Hermione supposed that when you grew up with a load of brothers, there was less of an opportunity to be fashionable. For all the girl's athleticism, she did love to keep up on the latest trends.

"I did as well," said Susan sounding a bit sad, "They reminded me of my crown."

Lucy's eyes lit up, shining as brightly as the some of the gemstones in the treasure chamber. "Oh yes! I'd forgotten it had daffodils! And ash leaves right? They were so lovely! I do miss mine as well. I know it's silly, but I dare say that my crown was my favorite bit of jewelry I ever owned here. What do you think happened to them?"

Susan shrugged, "Anything I suppose. It's difficult to say what happened the day we went back. I remember chasing the stag and then…nothing. We were falling out of the wardrobe. It's such a blur in my mind."

"Have you a favorite piece of jewelry, Hermione?" asked Lucy brightly.

The girls' memories of their time as sovereigns of Narnia were so real to them. As real as her memories of getting her Hogwarts letter. Hermione fingered the white gold chain around her neck that held her Time-Turner. Her throat choked up with emotion, thinking of the person who'd given her the chain. Memories of late nights in the library, sneaking back to their dorms way past curfew. The impromptu dancing lessons in the corridors, being enchanted by the Great Hall on Christmas Eve, of a stolen kiss just before the final task…and of Harry coming out of the maze crying over Cedric's body. Merlin! She missed him. Unbeknownst to Harry and Ron, Hermione had spent a great deal of time with him last year especially while the boys were fighting.

"Hermione?" Lucy touched her shoulder, jolting her out of her memories. She swallowed down her emotions, now wasn't the time.

"Yes Lucy?" She said, trying to refocus.

"I only asked if you were alright," replied the girl, "You…you were crying." Hermione was sure her face went red with embarrassment. She hastily swiped at her cheeks.

"I'm alright Lucy. Sorry, I was far away."

"We could tell," replied Susan handing her a lace handkerchief. Hermione took it with a quiet nod of thanks. "You didn't answer Lu's question and you were crying. We haven't upset you?"

"No, no of course not!" Hermione said, "It's nothing, just…a memory."

The girls looked skeptical, but nodded. "If you're sure," said Lucy. She was fully dressed now and had a maroon leather belt around her waist. She was clipping a dagger and a bottle of bright red liquid to it.

"I have an idea," said Susan whose eyes were sparkling.

"What sort of idea?" asked Lucy who was tying up the back of Susan's dress now. "Well, we were reminiscing about our crowns Lucy, and you asked Hermione if she had anything special. Why not let her choose something to take with her?"

"Oh, that's not necessary," protested Hermione suddenly. She wasn't sore over a lost earring, but something far greater, and she doubted any bit of jewelry would make her feel any better. "Honestly, you've given me so much already." She brushed out the skirt of the pale-yellow dress she'd chosen from earlier. Yellow…Cedric would have been proud. She smiled to herself at the thought.

"Consider it a gift," Susan said.

"Oh, do go on Hermione. What use is any of it to us now?" said Lucy, "Pick out something you like, honestly."

"If you don't, I may have to order you," added Susan with a small smirk. "It's ungracious to decline a queen's gift."

"I…" Hermione looked back and forth between their hopeful expressions and knew there was no way to argue. "Well, alright."

Lucy jumped up and clapped her hands excitedly. "Come on!" Lucy tugged on her arm and Hermione smiled as the younger girl dragged her back to the main chamber where the boys were waiting.

Hermione didn't consider herself a picky person by any means…but as she began to browse through the many jewels that Lucy and Susan pointed out to her, she found herself disliking something about every single piece. Finally, she picked up a small gold ring. A firey-red stone sat encircled by tiny white stones that flashed a pearly-gold color in the sunlight. "Ah, that's lovely Hermione," said Susan.

"It's beautiful, what kind of stone is this?" she asked, turning it over in the palm of her hand to get a better look. "I've never seen anything like it," she marveled.

"It's called a fire opal," replied Edmund. Hermione jumped slightly. She hadn't expected him to be the one to explain.

Susan looked up from admiring the ring at his comment. Hermione noted that his eyes were the color of dark chocolate. She hadn't noticed before, but he was the only one of his siblings with brown eyes. He wore a far-off expression and Hermione could tell that he was remembering something, something that apparently had stumped Susan, who for her part seemed puzzled. "When you hold it up to the light, it shines like a sunrise." He said. Edmund smiled and turned back to his trunk. He rummaged around in his chest for a minute. He pulled out a small box about the size of his hand. It was made from white birch, and had a little sparrow carved into the lid. She loved it instantly. Sparrows were her favorite bird, her father used to call her Sparrow when she was little. Hermione never told anyone this of course. She got teased plenty at school and it was a precious nick-name. Trust someone like Pansy Parkinson to twist it somehow if she ever found out. He passed the box to Hermione.

"Really?" she asked looking him in the eye for the first time since they'd met. She was surprised to note that, even though his eyes were quite dark, there were tiny flecks of golden brown in them. There was a piercing sadness to them in those seconds. You couldn't fake that kind of emotion. She hesitated, fingers twitching.

"There's a matching pendant." He said quietly, holding the beautiful box out to her. His gaze burned. She took the box in hand, breaking their eye contact in favor of inspecting the box, but she didn't open it.

"Ed…" said Peter cautiously, "Are you sure you want to—"

"—She may as well have it, Pete. We left before I could give it. And Miriam's long gone now, just like the others." He snapped leaving no room for argument.

Peter nodded apologetically. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to overstep..."

Edmund sighed in response, and ran a hand through his hair. He suddenly seemed so much older to her. "There's nothing to forgive Peter." He turned and proceeded to buckle his sword belt around his waist.

"If it's sentimental," said Hermione, "I don't need to take it."

"Have it, honestly, I want you to," he replied slinging his school bag back over his shoulder. "I'm going back up to scout the area." He set off without another word. She watched him go for a few seconds. Hermione felt her eyes mist over slightly at his generosity. His unexpected kindness stunned her. Out of all the Pevensies, she'd expected him to have the most difficult temperament. After a moment of admiring her gift, Hermione tucked the small box in her bag and followed behind him, leaving Harry and the Pevensies behind.

oOoOo

Edmund trailed his fingers along the broken stone remains of what could have only been a balcony rail. He stopped and knelt down.

"Catapults. This didn't just happen…" muttered Edmund to himself. His hand rested on a huge, perfectly round boulder embedded in the stone. There were fissures in the wall spreading out like a blot of ink on parchment. "Cair Paravel was—"

"—attacked." Finished Hermione. He jumped at her voice behind him, but relaxed once he realized it was only her. His hand dropped and he stood up.

"Yes." The sun was shining off of her hair making it glow a golden-brown. He wasn't sure what the girls had done to it, or perhaps it was just the Narnian air, but it was lovely and fell in loose waves with the sides pulled away from her face. It was a Narnian style that his sisters favored during their reign. It suited her.

"Your hair looks nice that way," he brushed off his hands. They'd been covered in dust from the treasure chamber. Her cheeks went rosy at his comment and she looked at the toes of her boots.

"Truth be told," she mumbled at her feet, "I feel really uncomfortable."

"Why?" Edmund asked.

"I'm not used to wearing something like this and it just feels…not me."

"Imagine how it felt being told you were going to be a king." He laughed, "Much scarier than being forced into a dress by my sisters." He paused and frowned slightly before proceeding, "Especially when you go from having nothing to having everything."

"Hard to believe," she replied. "You carry it well, as if you'd done it your whole life."

He shook his head. Oh, if she only knew, thought Edmund. "It took a lot of time." He smiled at Hermione, who appeared to have understood his unspoken meaning. He was surprised, but glad of it. He nodded his head in the direction of the rest of Cair Paravel's ruins. "Walk with me?" he asked. He didn't wait for an answer. He set off roughly in the direction of the old well. It was in one of the south courtyards, not too far from the treasure chamber.

Edmund climbed down a few steps, "Tell me a bit about yourself?" he asked as they walked.

"I'm not really very interesting," replied Hermione, plucking a long blade of grass and twirling it between her fingers.

"Well then your family?" Edmund asked. He drew his sword and cut down some vines that were tangled through the archway of an old door. "Do you have siblings?" Out of the corner of his eye he could see Hermione shaking her head no.

"I'm an only child. Harry is the closest thing I've got to a brother. We've only known each other for a few years, but well, I suppose we've been through too much to not be good friends at this point," she replied with a soft smile. He was secretly relieved. Edmund knew it was silly, but a part of him hoped that to be the case, less competition. She was very pretty. He shook his foolish thoughts from his head. He'd just met the girl!

"You met in school, right?" Edmund asked, in an attempt to force his thoughts back to their conversation.

She nodded, "Yes, on the train."

Edmund couldn't help but be slightly amused at her short and clipped responses. "You're very forthcoming in conversation, aren't you?" he asked lightly.

"I…" Hermione bit her tongue, and then laughed. It was musical in his ears. He grinned at her. "I'm sorry," she giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. "Usually it's getting me to shut up that is the problem." Her laughter subsided and she sighed. "I suppose I'm just feeling a bit out of my element."

"In what way?" he asked.

"Well," she gestured to their surroundings, "A castle ruin, a treasure chamber," she looked down at the gold and brown dress she'd borrowed from his sisters, "Supposed ancient kings and queens…it's like something out of a story book, and as much as I love to read…it's either fiction or history, isn't it?" she reasoned out loud. "I suppose, it's one thing to read and write about it, but another altogether to live it…" She trailed off. Her eyes had a far-away look in them and her face grew serious. "And we don't always get our happy endings in real life, do we? I suppose, this place is too lovely and wonderful to be real.

"You're waiting for the other shoe to drop," said Edmund.

She nodded and looked down at her boots again, watching where she placed her feet instead of him. "Some people at school call me a know-it-all; they say that I'm too academic to have a real life outside of school…I suppose, in situations like these," she paused as if afraid to keep going. "I guess I just wonder if maybe they were right all along? If I'm better off sticking to my books?"

Edmund nodded, sending her a sympathetic smile. Susan struggled with the same thing when they came back from Narnia the first time. In an effort to keep Peter from challenging her tormenters to a duel, Edmund spent many an hour with her late into the night as she sobbed onto his shoulder about how cruel the other girls and boys in her class could be…but in Hermione's case, he sensed that while this was true there was more to it than that. For now, he would stick with the facts she'd given him.

"They're just jealous," said Edmund firmly. It was the same thing he'd told his sister. "You're probably smarter and prettier than all of them who are saying otherwise."

"You sound like Harry," she sighed. "You're just saying that to be nice."

Edmund rolled his eyes at her response. "Women, you're all the same. Can't take a compliment at face value."

"I've no idea why I'm telling you any of this," she muttered.

"It's not because of my charm?" he quipped. It was a bit forward of him, but he wanted to hear her laugh again. He already preferred it to her thoughtful frown. Rather than laughing, she sent him a slightly withering look, but he could tell she didn't fully mean it.

Hermione shook her head, "To think that for a moment I thought you were quite intelligent," she began.

"Which moment?" he asked interrupting her. Edmund smirked.  
"…and then you go on about your charm. Men," she tsk-ed at him, "you're all the same. Think everything's about you." She mocked with a suddenly mischievous glint in her eye. Edmund couldn't stop the bark of laughter that burst from his chest. She smiled triumphantly.

"Or…" he said as his laughter died down, "It's because I'm a complete stranger, therefore objective and non-judgmental. And, of course, this is obviously a dream, so why not say something, not as if I'll tell anyone right? I'm just in your head," he finished his assessment, his tone was colder than he'd meant it to be. He turned to face her. She stopped in her tracks, her smile fading from her lips. He knew he'd caught her. Her eyes were as wide as a doe caught in her grazing unexpectedly, but there was flash of hurt in them, as quickly as he saw it, her face hardened and it was gone. Maybe he'd pushed a little too far?

"Or perhaps it was because I thought you'd be the sort of person to care enough to listen," she snapped, matching the coolness of his earlier tone.

Edmund tried not to flinch at her retaliation. He'd definitely pushed too far. That he'd figured her out so quickly and surmised that she'd reasoned away the possibility of this being her reality…it threatened her, no it wasn't that. He hurt her feelings and he knew it.

Edmund was actually quite impressed with Hermione's sound reasoning, wit, and calm in the face of uncertainty. Had he been in her position, he probably would have done the same, hell, he _did_ far worse than reason away the truth. But as far as he was impressed by her, Edmund was equally disappointed. Some part of him hoped that she'd believe him. He wondered for a second if this was how Lucy felt the first time that she'd tried to tell them about the wardrobe. This thought darkened his mood considerably. What kind of beast had he been?

"I'm a good judge of character," he said quietly. How bitter those words tasted coming out of his mouth... He suddenly felt angry with himself. Blast his bloody ability to read people! He shouldn't have said anything, even though it had become a valuable tool in his time as king, it was precisely the thing that used to get him in trouble before Narnia. Edmund slashed at second set of tangled vines, probably more ferociously than necessary.

They walked in silence for the next five minutes. Cicadas and crickets buzzed in the background. Edmund had to cut through several sections of tall overgrown grass to keep the path clear for Hermione and himself. He allowed the buzz around them and the feel of his old sword in hand to dull his overactive mind. He could hear some birds singing as well, and even a faint trickle of water as they drew closer to the old well, which was located near where the kitchens would have been. Edmund finally sheathed his sword. These courtyards used to lead into his personal gardens, he'd spend hours underneath the moonlight listening to the frogs sing in the early spring, thankful to Aslan that the long winter was over. He sighed, feeling some tension leave him. Despite the ruinous state of Cair Paravel, it was still home.

"Did…did you _really_ have your own library?" Hermione asked. Her timid question cut through the silence and pulled him away from his memories.

Edmund glanced over his shoulder at her. Her face and neck were tinged pink, and the gold flecks in her irises were sparkling with an eagerness and curiosity that surprised him. He was silent for a few minutes as they continued to trek onward. It allowed him to think through what he was going to say, rather than relying on his ability to pull the truth out of others. Clearly, she was used to such tactics and that would serve only to shut her down once more.

"What changed your mind?" he asked finally, choosing not to answer her directly. She stopped walking for a moment and then picked up her pace so she was walking alongside him instead of behind.

"What?"

"You didn't believe us…now you do. What changed your mind?" He said again, waiting for her response.

"I…" the blush darkened.

"You're afraid to say, because you think it's silly." Edmund stated more than asked. When she gave no response, he knew he'd done it again. He inwardly cursed. He couldn't win with this girl. He sighed and ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. Hermione stopped walking and reached into her bag and pulled the birch box with the carved sparrow on it and handed it to him. He stared at it, eyes blinking away the sudden moisture gathering in them.

"It was your eyes," she said softly. "When you gave it to me…I just sort of knew that you were telling the truth, however illogical it was to my mind… and I couldn't argue with what I saw." Edmund brushed his thumb over the sparrow carving.

"There's a story behind it." Hermione continued, "You don't have to tell me, but I'd like to know someday…and well, it felt familiar…reminded me of home."

Edmund looked back at her face, now he was curious, "Really?"

She nodded, "My father used to call me his little sparrow."

"Used to?" he inquired.

Hermione sighed and tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. "He died, about two years before I started at Hogwarts…the boarding school Harry and I go to," she explained. He shook his head; he'd never heard of it.

"That's an odd name for a school."

Hermione laughed, "Yes, I suppose it is, but it's got the most incredible library." She grinned at him. So, she didn't want to talk about it. It was alright with him though. He wasn't sure he could tell her his story yet. It warmed his heart in an unexpected way that his gift was the thing that convinced her.


	4. A Thickening Haze

**Chapter 4: A Thickening Haze**

Harry blinked as the bright afternoon light hit his face. They'd been in treasure chamber for well over an hour. He was now completely fitted out with two sets of Narnian clothing, a cloak, a full set of armor, and a sword. He was surprisingly comfortable with the armor, it reminded him a bit of the protective leather padding they were required to wear at Hogwarts for quidditch. He climbed the last few steps and stopped to survey the surrounding area.

He wondered where Hermione had gotten too. He knew she could handle herself well enough, but given their circumstances, he rather wished she hadn't wandered off. That girl had insatiable curiosity.

"Looking for Hermione?" asked Peter, coming up behind him. Harry sighed.

"She's too curious for her own good. And no offense, but we've only just met you lot," Harry replied. His fingers tapped out an erratic pattern on his thigh as he walked. He was feeling just a little bit anxious at her absence.

"Well, she's gone with Ed, so she's in good hands," said Peter calmly.

"He's not known as the Shield of Narnia for nothing!" added Lucy brightly.

"Shield of Narnia?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

Peter rubbed at his temples, as if feeling an oncoming headache, "Suffice it to say, that a shield takes most of the hits from your enemy."

"Edmund would rather himself injured than see harm come to anyone he cared about. He's got a bit of a hero complex," said Susan.

Harry bristled at the phrase…it was one he'd heard from Hermione more than he cared to admit. But part of him felt relieved to know this, and he'd accept nothing less.

"A bit!" cried Lucy indignantly, "That bloody hero complex landed him in the infirmary far more than anyone I've ever met in my life, even you Peter!"

"Lucy, don't curse," hissed Susan, even though she was nodding her agreement.

"I'm sure they'll be back soon," said Peter finally. "Now," he said. "We probably have about four hours of full sunlight left and we really ought to set up camp before we explore any further. I saw Edmund grab our waterskins. So, I suspect he headed towards the well. We need firewood, flint, and something to eat for this evening."

"I could go back to the orchard and pick some apples," Susan suggested.

"And I wanted to collect some herbs from the edge of the woods for medicines," added Lucy, "We may need them for the journey, even though we don't know why we're here yet. It won't hurt to be prepared. There might be some roots and berries that we could eat too."

Peter nodded at the girls. "I'll go with you Lucy and collect firewood for this evening."

"I guess I'll go with Susan," said Harry, wanting to feel useful.

"It's settled then," said Peter, "Myself and Lu will meet you both at the orchard in the next…is an hour enough for you Lucy?" She nodded, and Peter turned back to the others. "We'll leave our things extra things here so Ed and Hermione know."

"Sounds good," said Harry.

"Take your bow, Susan," added Peter. She rolled her eyes at him, but agreed. The four of them split ways.

Harry and Susan couldn't have walked for more than a few minutes before she started asking questions. To be honest he was surprised it took her even that long. Harry had the feeling that Susan liked to be in the know about things. Or perhaps he'd grown overly used to Hermione's incessant chattering about anything and everything. Most of the time it comforted him, allowed him not to think or dwell in dark places. He thought that was probably why she did it.

"How'd you get that?" Susan asked lightly, as they made their way down the slope. She pointed to his forehead. He tensed. Straight for the guttural then; no beating around the bush. He almost appreciated her bluntness. Harry involuntarily traced the scar with his fingertips and then sighed. He'd grown so used to everyone knowing about him, that it hadn't occurred to him that she didn't know. He grinned suddenly.

"Oh…you know, fought off a wolf with my bare hands," he said dramatically.

Susan smiled, "No you didn't."

His grin widened, "No. I didn't." he admitted, "Fell in the bathtub," he said with a shrug, trying again.

"Hmm," she shook her head, "No, that's not it either."

"Have a guess then," said Harry, still beaming. He knew he was being cheeky, but his joking seemed to be entertaining her.

She remained quiet for a moment. Her eyes were sparkling with mirth, but he could tell that she was trying to come up with a good response. "Given that it's quite visible, I'd say it's recent; it's not raw…so had to be a year or more ago. It's jagged, so…glass? Perhaps a car accident?"

He winced unexpectedly. "No," he said. Sometimes he wondered if his life would've been simpler had that been the case. A voice in his head, that sounded an awful lot like Hermione, reminded him that it was better to know the truth than to live out a lie. He groaned at the thought, thinking suddenly of the disillusioned pendant around his neck. He begrudgingly agreed with his Hermione-conscious. He really ought to give it to her. He shook his thoughts away and forced himself to refocus on Susan.

"Good guess though," Harry replied, trying to not sound bitter.

Susan's eyes turned serious at his dark tone, and she placed a hand on his shoulder. "Did it hurt terribly?" she asked. Harry froze in his tracks for half a second, quite stunned by her empathetic response…and he hadn't even explained yet.

"Yes," his voice came out barely above a whisper. "Still does sometimes." Susan squeezed his shoulder gently in a reassuring manner. The skin beneath her hand felt warm. Harry had a hard time finding words at that point. He was lost to his own thoughts about his parents and what his life could have been if they'd not been taken from him at such a young age. After a few moments, Susan spoke up again.

"We've all got them, you know," she said in a matter-of-fact tone. Her hand dropped to her side. His shoulder felt cold.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Scars…and I'm not talking little nicks and papercuts." She sighed and ran her fingers through her dark hair, flipping it onto the other shoulder. It may have been a trick of the light, but Harry swore she did it on purpose. There just above her collar bone at the base of her neck was a thick white line of jagged flesh. "We spent fifteen years here as ruling sovereigns…you don't come out of that sort of thing unscathed."

He couldn't tear his eyes from it. "What happened?" Harry asked a bit bluntly.

"Attempted kidnapping," she replied with a roll of her eyes. "The first time it happened, Peter insisted I learn how to defend myself."

His jaw dropped, "It happened more than once?" Susan gave a nonchalant wave of her hand through the air.

"I lost count after a while. As it turns out, most princes don't enjoy rejection…"

"I think that's most blokes, Susan." Harry said shaking his head with an impressed laugh. He liked this side of her; it was refreshingly different from most girls at Hogwarts, barring perhaps Ginny and Hermione. "You really were a queen, weren't you?"

Susan almost smirked at his rhetorical question. Harry wasn't the least bit surprised to hear this sort of tale from her. He wasn't as bright as his best friend, but he'd read his share of stories growing up (it was the one thing Vernon and Petunia allowed, because it kept him quiet.) He particularly enjoyed King Arthur legends…not that he'd ever tell Hermione. Thoughts of political intrigue, kidnappings, assassination attempts, and the like, ran through his mind.

Susan let her hair fall back in place. "It's nothing in comparison to what Peter and Edmund have collected over the years; even Lucy has her share. She was a right terror to try and keep from riding into battle with the boys," said Susan with a laugh. "Eventually I gave in on the condition she stay with the other healers, and away from the main fighting…not that she listened very well. She's quiet the lioness when you hurt her loved ones, corner her…or heaven forbid, you insult Aslan."

Harry laughed softly, thinking of Ginny. "Sounds like she's quite brave."

"The bravest of us all. In fact, she was known as 'Queen Lucy the Valiant.'"

"And you?" Harry asked. He smiled in her direction as they arrived back at the apple orchard. "What title was the legendary Susan Pevensie given?"

Susan blushed for the first time since they'd begun their conversation, "They called me 'Queen Susan the Gentle.'"

"Hmm," said Harry, stroking his chin in mock-thoughtfulness, "I'd figured you'd be more of the 'Queen-I'll-Kick-Your-Arse if you touch me', type." Susan laughed brightly at his comment. Harry beamed. It was the most beautiful melody he'd heard in ages.

oOoOo

"But he's always brooding!" Edmund practically whined in response to whatever Hermione was rambling about.

"That's the appeal though, don't you see?" countered Hermione. "It's the mystery of what's going on behind closed doors, so to speak."

"…and they disagree all the time," Edmund continued to rant.

"They're worthy adversaries!" Hermione defended.

Harry glanced over his shoulder at the sound of Hermione's voice. She was walking with Edmund, the two of them weighed down by the water skins they carried for the group. He didn't even have to ask to know what they were arguing about. _Pride and Predjudice, _Hermione loved that bloody book, and once she convinced Ginny to read it, the two of them didn't shut up about it for a week! Peter was a few paces behind him ringing out his tunic. He looked amused, but a little lost. Harry chuckled. 'Welcome to my world.' He thought to himself. Hermione passed the waterskins to Edmund, who dropped them next to their other bags.

"You two are looking rather cozy," Harry said causally, as she approached him.

"Well," She snapped defensively, "You and Peter were getting all…sword-y on me."

Harry gaped at her, he was biting down his laughter, "Hermione Granger, when did you start making up words?" he teased, poking her lightly in the shoulder. She smacked his hand away, but pulled it back sharply, hissing. She jammed her fingers on his armguard.

Harry couldn't help it, and burst out laughing. "I love that you can't abuse me anymore, without feeling a little pain."

"I can still hex you into next week," she mumbled under her breath, while she held her fingers tightly until they felt better. Harry grinned at her retort, knowing full well that she could do just that.

"Harry?" She asked abruptly, "Why are you completely soaked through?" Her eyes widened as she noticed the shallow cut on his cheek. "Harry James Potter!" she huffed and placed her hands on her hips. "I leave you alone for two hours and you've already gotten into trouble!"

Peter laughed, and Harry snickered as Hermione turned her wrath away from him toward Peter.

"I don't suppose that _you _have anything to do with this?" she snapped. The eldest Pevensie stiffened, as if realizing that he'd been caught with his hand in the biscuit tin. Susan was doing her best to hide a self-satisfied smirk.

Harry grinned. He quite enjoyed watching Hermione unleash her fury on others, especially Malfoy and his minions. A few well-placed words were all that it took for her to have someone shaking in their boots. Privately, Harry thought she'd taken a page out of Ginny and Mrs. Weasley's book. So often people underestimated her, and usually realized too late that they'd bitten off more than they could chew.

Hermione was as compassionate as she was ferocious, and as brilliant as she was protective and loyal. It was something he'd come to value about her, especially after last year. His grin faded momentarily, thinking briefly of Diggory. No wonder he'd liked her.

Harry tuned back to the conversation before him. "Well, what could I do?" Peter addressed this mostly to Susan. "He was right, we are the Kings and Queens of Old, but Edmund wasn't with us and we needed to prove it."

"Well then you ought of have fought him yourself instead of letting him assume that Harry was Edmund..." Reprimanded Susan, crossing her arms over her chest. "Honestly, Edmund's the best swordsman in Narnia, something really could have gone terribly wrong," she continued with a disapproving shake of her head.

"He did fine with it Su," argued Peter.

"It was fun…" added Harry with a sheepish grin. Peter sent him a grateful look. Susan's eyes hardened. If the tick in her jaw was anything to go by, Harry realized that despite their enjoyable afternoon together, he wasn't off the hook either. Edmund stopped what he was doing and looked up at his siblings and Harry.

"Wait, what happened?" Edmund asked.

"Peter let Harry pretend to be you and fight Trumpkin in order to prove that we were the Kings and Queens of Old…" explained Susan.

"That's brilliant!" exclaimed Edmund at the same time that Hermione spoke up.

"Harry!" Hermione admonished, "You've never used a sword in your life! What possessed you? You could have been seriously hurt!"

"At least someone around here is being sensible," muttered Susan.

"They _do_ sort of look alike," said Lucy to herself, the young queen's eyes darted between himself and Edmund.

"But actually…I have, Hermione." Harry argued. "Second year in the Chamber of Secrets." She visibly deflated.

"Oh…the sword of Gryffindor. I'd forgotten that."

"Yes, well, you were otherwise occupied." Harry said with a shrug. Hermione shuddered. He wasn't sure if she remembered anything of the months spent petrified. But he was positive that if she did, her memories were unpleasant at best.

Noticing the confused and pointed looks that the Pevensies were throwing one another, Harry spoke up quickly before they could ask questions he and Hermione didn't want to answer. "Besides," he added with a grin, "I wanted to see how much I could remember, and I couldn't let the opportunity pass."

"Hate to break up the little party… but I thought you said that you had food here," grumbled a new voice. Trailing behind Lucy was the sopping wet, miserable red form of Trumpkin, the dwarf. He was mumbling unintelligibly underneath his breath. Harry paid him no attention. According to Lucy, dwarfs were quite naturally a little grumpy. Hermione's eyes widened at the arrival of the new member to their group.

"Oh, hello," Hermione said. She stuck her hand out in greeting. Trumpkin eyed her wearily. "I'm Hermione Granger, you must be Trumpkin." Lucy grinned. Harry rolled his eyes. First house elves now red dwarves…he chuckled to himself and took the logs that Peter passed him for the evening fire. This day was just getting stranger by the hour.

oOoOo

It was dusk. Edmund lay on his back with one arm tucked underneath his head. He didn't mind the wet grass, damp as it was from the evening dew, in fact it grounded him to the reality that he was here. In Narnia. Home.

He'd gone off a way from the rest of the group, very much in need of a bit of quiet. His siblings were quite used to him disappearing on his own and thankfully, didn't follow him. They all developed their own coping mechanisms to deal with the stress that came with ruling a country, and learned to not question one another.

He was watching the night sky. The stars just started coming out. He'd forgotten so many of Narnia's constellations that Na-brie, Orieus' wife and one of Edmund's old tutors, would have been exasperated with him. He chuckled at the long-gone memory of his twelve-year old self being made to sit still in his library and focus on his mathematics and various navigation techniques rather than to go out camping with the soldiers to learn hands on like Peter. He missed his old study. The large oak bookcases, the midnight blue wall hanging of a ship at sea, and the huge hearth that cast the cozy room in a warm glow. It had been in one of the higher towers of Cair Paravel, with a gorgeous glass roof that provided him with an open view of the night sky.

It was no wonder that by the age fourteen, he had most of the major constellations memorized and far surpassed Peter in his ability to navigate. Peter worked best off of landmarks; Edmund didn't need them to find his way. Peter and the other soldiers used a Narnian-made compass that pointed North; Edmund navigated Eastward. Susan thought it was illogical. Peter questioned him about it more than once. Why would one navigate by the East? Edmund never answered him, but East pointed to Cair Paravel, his home and his family. East was the way to Aslan's Country. It was Edmund's way of reminding himself when he felt lost, of remembering what was given up for him… of what he had to live for. His eyes scanned the night sky, searching Eastward for the Blue Star, the brightest of his favorite constellation. He sighed.

"What are you looking for, Ed?" whispered Lucy as she plopped down next to him and her gaze turned upward as well.

"The Lion," he mumbled. But not Lucy, she never questioned him…Lucy understood.

"I thought that was a spring constellation?"

"Doesn't mean it disappears the rest of the year Lu," said Edmund resolutely. She nodded in full agreement.

"The others were wondering where you've been. Trumpkin has been telling us of how he ended up in that boat with the Telmarine soldiers. He was sent on a mission to Cair Paravel to meet whoever arrived here."

"He knew we were coming?" Her brief explanation snapped him out of his quiet enjoyment of the stars. Edmund sat up fully and locked eyes with his little sister.

"Well, not us necessarily, but the myths of us so to speak."

"Myths?" Edmund asked, one eyebrow was raised slightly in amusement.

"Yes, I suppose you could say our reign went down in Narnian history as the 'Golden Age.' According to Trumpkin…Cair Paravel was sacked a year after we left. And Narnia has been under Telmarine rule ever since."

Edmund's smile dimmed and he flinched unexpectedly. He'd suspected as much had happened to their beloved home. But to hear the truth, and from sweet, ever-faithful Lucy no less… Miriam's loss had pained him, but whatever remained of his heart that was unbroken, now shattered for his people.

"Thirteen hundred years and we're nothing but a glorious blink in Narnia's memory…" replied Lucy with a melancholy sigh.

"Why?" choked Edmund, "Why would He call us away only to return us to a ruined legacy?"

"I don't know Ed…" Lucy shook her head sadly, "But you ought to know, it was Susan's horn that brought us back. The young Prince Caspian, the rightful heir-apparent to Narnia's throne was usurped by his uncle, Lord Miraz of Telmar. Caspian's sympathetic to Old Narnia. He's the one who called for our help…he's the one that Trumpkin serves."

Something akin to hope, caught fire in Edmund's chest. "So that's why we are here. To give Narnia back to the Narnians?"

"So it would seem," replied Lucy with a shrug.

"The only question left to answer," began Edmund, "Is who are Harry and Hermione, and why are _they_ here?" Lucy frowned at him. "Lu, if we were only called back to put Caspian in his rightful place…I mean, we could have handled that fine the four of us. It's nothing we haven't done before. Remember Cor?" Lucy nodded.

"Perhaps…there's more to it than what meets the eye? Surely Aslan brought them here for a reason. I don't pretend to know his mind, but I do trust him, Edmund. Don't you?" Lucy inquired.

He said nothing. Edmund agreed with Lucy for the most part. He did believe that Aslan sent Harry and Hermione. He was immeasurably thankful that Harry had jumped in to help himself and Peter at the train station. He could see why Aslan might send someone like that. Harry was an asset to them; he was sure of it. Edmund only had to look once in his eyes to know that Harry was cut from the same cloth as Peter. He was brave; either kind enough or foolish enough to help out a stranger in a moment of need. Protective of Hermione, but overly so, as much as Pete was with Lucy. Edmund also was beginning to appreciate his sense of humor as well. He was sure that if he'd known Harry earlier in his life, the two of them would have caused quite a lot of mischief together.

Hermione though, he wasn't sure of her yet. Edmund couldn't for the life of him, understand why he'd given her Miriam's pendant. He didn't mind that she had it, his gut told him that she would value it.

Miriam was the light that pierced his darkest moments. Her kindness, sense of humor, and wisdom lifted him from the deepest trenches of despair more times than he could remember…it was why he picked out a fire opal for her. It was symbolic of who she was to him and how much he treasured the lightness she brought to his heart. Edmund sighed. Miriam was dead.

He didn't know Hermione, but there was something in her eyes that morning. He recognized it as the grief that he too held in his heart. And in those few seconds that their eyes met, he wanted nothing more than to alleviate her from whatever loss she'd known.

"Edmund?"

"Of course, I trust him Lu," Edmund sighed and allowed himself to fall back into the grass. "I'm just trying to understand it all."

"There's…one other thing," Lucy said with a tentative edge to her voice. Edmund frowned in mild concern. Lucy was anything but timid. "You won't like it." His brow creased with further confusion.

"Lucy?" Edmund asked. His younger sister bit her lip.

"It's not just the Narnians that are stirred up about the Telmarines... Trumpkin said that he was the only one that volunteered to come fetch us. All the others were too terrified of the 'ghosts.'"

"_Ghosts_?" Edmund scoffed, feeling rather skeptical, "You don't actually believe that Lucy?" She shook her head and continued as if she hadn't heard him.

"There's been rumors of strange activity in Lantern Waste, that the Western Woods are haunted. Rumors…that the White Witch never really died, that the reason Narnia's been lost to the Telmarines is because they are receiving help. That the reason Aslan's hasn't come is because she's back, biding her time, waiting for the perfect opportunity…" Lucy's eyes were cautious and never left his face as she related Trumpkin's story.

Edmund subconsciously stiffened at her explanation, his muscles tensing and tightening as the seconds ticked by. He was trying so hard to listen and to keep himself calm. Even after all these years he thought that the mention of the witch would have less effect on him, but it wasn't so. He swallowed hard, shoving down the irrational fear that threatened to bubble up from the pit of his stomach. Dread creeped into his heart, like a vine that climbed a building slowly over the years until it grew so thick and twisted in the crevices of stone that the rock began to crack.

"Ed?" Lucy's fingertips brushed over his knuckles. It was a soft touch, meant to be reassuring. And for the moment, it grounded him. He latched on to her hand. "I'm sorry. The others didn't want me to say anything…but I felt that you ought to hear it from us."

Edmund nodded his understanding. Of course, Peter and Susan wouldn't have wanted to upset him, but he was thankful for Lucy's honesty and discretion. It saved him the potential embarrassment of reacting badly in front of their new friends, and he never liked the way Peter looked at him when he had a bad flashback. His brother blamed himself for what happened to Edmund all those years ago, and he would never want Peter to shoulder the blame…never. No, that was Edmund's burden to carry. He took a deep breath, Lucy's hand clutched tightly in his. She tugged him up from his position on the ground and smiled sadly.

"Perhaps we ought to rejoin the others and get some sleep?"

"Yes," replied Edmund quietly. "Perhaps we should." Though he knew he would not rest easy tonight.

oOoOo

When dawn came, Edmund was relieved. As suspected, he slept fitfully all night, tossing and turning in his sleep, startled awake by the slightest noise. Exhaustion hung around him like a heavy shroud, numbing his ability to think clearly and reason through anything, not exactly the way he liked to start a long journey. He kept quiet most of the morning, allowing Peter to take the lead and organize their small party for their departure.

It was decided that they'd take the boat and go by Glasswater until they came further inland. It would hopefully cut down on the number of days they would have to walk. Then from there, they would venture on foot to cross at the River Rush, and on toward Beruna and Aslan's How.

The first few hours were spent mostly in silence, each one of them still recovering from their uncomfortable sleep on the ground. Harry and Hermione watched the scenery pass by as if they'd never been in a more beautiful place. And Narnia was a beautiful place, even in the eerie stillness of the wild. It was about mid-morning when Lucy finally broke the silence.

"They're so still," Lucy commented quietly, gazing solemnly up at the trees. He'd noticed it too. Small bugs flitted lazily along the sunbeams that shown through the thick branches, casting shadows on the water, which sparkled like turquoise. The beams caught the misty spray of water that trickled down through the crevices of the rocky canyon, throwing little rainbows along the walls of the steadily rising terrain around them. It was beautiful, but far too quiet, even the birdsong seemed dull and mournful.

Anger welled up and caught in Edmund's chest every time his thoughts wandered to the stillness of the woods and the trees. He should have been there. They were his to look after and his forest was silent as a graveyard. Edmund felt ashamed.

"They're trees," responded Trumpkin.

Edmund felt all of the muscles in his body tense at the comment. He was a live wire. Edmund was beginning to realize why Peter ended up in so many fights last year. It wasn't as if his brother had gone looking for them. Peter had never been one who relished hurting others, even as a trained knight of Narnia. But the callous lack of regard for others, for life…it was a sure way to set Pete off like a rocket.

"They used to dance," Lucy continued mournfully. "I don't understand. How could Aslan have let this happen?"

"Aslan…well, he abandoned us not long after you did."

"We didn't mean to leave!" snapped Susan with a scathing glare.

"It makes no difference now, does it?"

"Get us to the Narnians, and it will," Said Peter firmly, leveling Trumpkin with his best 'High-King' glower. The red dwarf just shrugged as if already resigned to his fate. Where was the fight in their people? Edmund wondered. Was the Telmarine occupation so bad that they no longer had to beat the Narnians into submission, because they were already passive and hopeless?

"You act as if there's no hope," Hermione said after a minute, giving voice to Edmund's thoughts. He glanced up at her, curious as to what she'd say. "So why did you call them?" Her words were clipped short and her irritation was evident in the way she held herself so stiffly.

Edmund felt his heart jump slightly in his chest So quick she was to defend them against Trumpkin's cynicism. He looked to Trumpkin, who offered no response.

"You wouldn't have called if you didn't believe it could work. And now you're turning your nose up at the help that has come! What?" she snapped, "are we not good enough for you because you view us as innocent children who know nothing of the sorrows of life?" Her voice was growing steadily agitated. Edmund's brow furrowed at her outburst, and he finally noticed that she had bags under her eyes. Apparently, she hadn't slept well either, and oddly, this knowledge was of some comfort to him.

"Hermione…" Harry touched her shoulder gently and cut her off with a small shake of his head. She recoiled from him like the butt of a rifle just fired. She clenched her teeth together turned away from him, her eyes fixed on the surface of the water. She was very nearly quivering with anger. Her fingers twisted anxiously around a plain white-gold chain around her neck. Edmund frowned. Where was the pendant? Clearly something Trumpkin said had set her off as well. Edmund couldn't possibly think of what. Hermione had no history with Narnia, no guilt to weigh on her conscience. 'That you know of,' his thoughts whispered to him. And yet, her silence was the most suffocating of them all…even more than the trees.

"Ed," Peter's voice jerked him out of his reverie. "Can you take the oars?" Edmund nodded in response and carefully stood in the boat. The two of them switched places. Peter was rubbing at his shoulders and cracked his neck from side to side. He was stiff. Edmund didn't blame him; he'd been rowing for over two hours. Truthfully, Edmund was quite glad to have something to occupy his mind.

He took a deep breath and pulled the oars, allowing the motion and the sound of water slapping up against the wood of the boat to calm the darkening storm of his clouded thoughts.


	5. Not Alone

**AN: I'm so sorry for the massive delay in posting, but due to some major personal life crisis in the last few months it has been a struggle to find inspiration. Hope you all enjoy this long chapter. As penance I will also be posting two one-shots that go along with this story. Read, Review, and please Enjoy. **

"**Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted." Matthew 5:8 (NIV)**

**Chapter 5: Not Alone**

Her head was pounding…again. Hermione knew that the cause was likely a combination of the glare of the sun coming off of the water and the fact that she hardly slept a wink last night, especially after Trumpkin's stories about the "haunted" Black Wood, their next destination.

Hermione wasn't afraid of the wood, no, she'd spent far too much time in the Forbidden Forest with Harry and Ron to be afraid of the shadows and the trees…It was more the haunted part that she didn't like. The stories of ghosts, and again she wasn't even terribly afraid of them either, she went to Hogwarts for Merlin's sake! Ghosts were part of her daily school routine…but that was before.

Before Cedric died. Before Voldemort returned. Before the attack on the platform. Before she was thrown back in time and pulled into a strange world unwillingly.

Hermione jammed her eyes shut and shielded them with her hand. It was a futile attempt to block out the sun and her fears. Over the last few months…the loneliness and sadness that she felt at Cedric's death gnawed away, turning into something that she hadn't felt before.

Guilt.

She had the horrible thought just a few days ago, back home in England, that she should have tried harder. He told her! He knew he was going to die. Why didn't she fight to keep him from going into that maze? She should have put a full body-bind on him and left him locked in a broom cupboard until after the final task! Hell, she should have done the same to Harry!

The rational part of her brain argued with her that it wouldn't have done either of them any good. Dumbledore said that the reason Harry had to compete was because of some binding magical contract. But why didn't she think to research it? Even before the competition started, surely if there was a way to hoodwink the goblet into accepting Harry's name then there must have been a way to get him out of it! But Cedric put his name in willingly, but even then, she'd had his ear. She could have tried harder to convince him otherwise.

Hermione's thoughts raged on in a similar manner for the next few hours until they finally arrived at shore. Lucy was the first to jump out of the boat, and charged forward ahead of them all. The others paid her no mind. Hermione was amazed that the poor girl had been able to keep still all day.

Peter and Edmund jumped out of the boat and into the shallow water. Edmund began to haul the small boat further onto the rocky bank. Harry jumped out and went to help him while Peter dropped the anchor, and reached for Susan to help her climb out. He turned and did the same for her. She was surprisingly grateful. The dress Susan and Lucy gave her was lovely, but it did tend to hinder her if she was trying to climb over things.

Hermione smiled tiredly at him. "Thanks."

Peter nodded. His hands dropped from her waist and he frowned, "Are you alr—" he was cut off by Lucy's voice calling to someone in the back ground.

"Hello there!" Lucy said brightly. Hermione peeked around Peter's shoulder to get a better look at who Lucy was speaking with. It was a giant black bear. Hermione tensed. The bear looked up. "It's alright…we're friends!" They all seemed to realize the same thing at once.

"Don't move, your majesty!" Ordered Trumpkin. Lucy's smile faded. The bear started charging at Lucy. Susan pulled out her bow and knocked an arrow.

"Stay away from her!" Susan called. Hermione balked, her adrenaline started pumping and she felt through the folds of her dress for her wand. It was a bear! Did they expect it to listen? The bear continued to charge. Lucy screamed and bolted, running towards them at full speed. She tripped.

"SHOOT SUSAN!" roared Edmund pulling his sword from his scabbard. Peter did the same. The bear fell, a brown arrow embedded in its furry hide. Hermione's hands were shaking. They all froze for a moment, watching the animal for any signs of movement. When there was none, Peter ran forward and helped his sister to stand from where she fell. He wrapped his arm around Lucy protectively and held his sword at the ready while Trumpkin approached the bear to make sure it was dead.

"Why wouldn't he stop?" asked Peter.

"I expect he was hungry," growled Trumpkin pulling a knife from his belt.

"He was wild?" asked Edmund. Hermione stared. Were they all mad? "I don't think he could talk at all." If it was possible, Hermione's eyes widened further in utter confusion until her gaze fell on Harry. She barely heard Trumpkin's response.

"Get treated like a dumb animal long enough and that's what you become." Trumpkin kneeled next to the animal. "I think that you'll find Narnia a more savage place than you remember."

Hermione watched Harry as he stood there, frozen like a marble statue staring at the dead animal. His breath came out in strained heaves.

"Are you okay?" she asked him tentatively. She placed a concerned hand on his arm. He shrugged her off and shook his head, as if trying to shake away whatever was going through his head.

"It's not as if I haven't seen someone die before, Hermione." Harry said with an acidic bite to his voice.

Icy anger shot through her heart. She inhaled sharply, and before she knew it her hand was flying through the air. There was a sharp CRACK! And Harry's face whipped to the side. His hand flew up to his face. It did the trick and Harry snapped out of whatever had come over him. His eyes widened in alarm as if he suddenly realized what he said. She could see that he was instantly sorry, but Hermione was not feeling very forgiving today.

How could he just say that so callously? And after everything they'd gone through last year? But he didn't know…argued her mind, no one at school really knew anything apart from the fact Cedric had taken her to the Yule Ball. They were so careful after that…mostly to avoid the backlash rumors and bad press that followed. She shoved past Harry, swiping away her unexpected tears as she marched off.

"Hermione! I didn't mean it that way!" Harry tried to follow her. She ignored him. "I'm sorry!" he called. She broke into a run. She was no longer thinking about the fact that the forest was full of hungry wild animals, she just wanted a moment to get away to cry and pull herself together.

oOoOo

It took Harry a moment to realize that the Pevensies witnessed the entire exchange. Lucy looked horrified, but Susan seemed unsurprised at the revelation, but confused by Hermione's reaction. Harry thought that she'd probably already suspected _something_ after their chat in the orchard. And even if Susan hadn't known _what_ she suspected; she was putting pieces together quickly. He ran a hand through his hair. How could he have been so stupid? He knew better! Even though Hermione hadn't ever told anyone about her relationship with Cedric, he wasn't blind. And now he'd let slip far more to the Pevensies than he ever intended. They were sure to ask questions. Harry and Hermione couldn't afford for them to ask questions.

Peter's brows were furrowed and his usually clear blue eyes were full of disapproval and undiluted curiosity. He sent Edmund a sharp look and jerked his head toward Hermione. She was nearly out of sight. Edmund released a sigh of irritation, but nodded at his brother and took off after her.

"Have you ever skinned a bear before?" Peter asked Harry cooly. The oldest Pevensie kept his eyes trained on his brother as he stalked after Hermione.

"No…but I suppose I'm going to learn?" Harry asked, eyeing the dead bear wearily. This was his punishment and he knew it.

"Erm…Lucy, let's go a fair way off." Susan said as she grabbed her sister's arm. She glanced between Peter's stormy gaze and the guilty one that Harry knew he was sporting. She looked a little green in the face. "I know what a horribly messy business this could be."

Harry turned his glance toward Lucy, who seemed to have missed the double meaning behind Susan's words. She didn't look nervous in the least bit, but allowed Susan to pull her away regardless. And Harry was left with Trumpkin and Peter for his butchering lesson. He hoped Hermione would forgive him for his careless comment.

oOoOo

She was perched on the edge of a fallen log. Her arms were crossed over her knees and her head was in her lap, curls spilling in front of her face She was crying softly. Edmund grimaced, hoping to Aslan that he wouldn't read into her too much. Peter was better at this stuff, gentler, more intuitive. Edmund wasn't great with girls, especially when they were crying. He was alright with Susan and Lucy; they were his sisters and if they were crying, then something was actually wrong.

In his time as king, Edmund grew to hate it when women cried. He'd unfortunately spent many a ball at Cair Paravel stuck with some foreign dignitary's daughter bawling on his shoulder because propriety demanded it. Those were some of the few moments that Edmund cursed the fact that he was a king and had to be a gentleman. He learned fairly quickly to differentiate between the liars who were just trying to snag a King of Narnia, and those who were genuinely upset. Though this skill didn't make him any less comfortable or confident on what to do in these circumstances. Edmund steeled himself for the task before him.

"Erm…" he coughed lightly. She didn't hear him. Oh Aslan, what was he supposed to do now? He ventured forward a few steps. "I know it seems like a silly question," he began, "but, are you alright?" She shook her head silently. Hermione swiped at the tear-tracks rapidly trailing down her cheeks. Edmund sighed and finally decided to sit down on the log next to her.

"Is there anything I can do?" he asked tentatively. She shook her head again. He released a breath slowly. "Well done Ed…" he muttered to himself. His knee bounced up and down in its place. He wiped his sweating palms along his trousers and made to walk away and just let her be.

A fresh wave of tears rolled down her face. Edmund wasn't sure what came over him, but in the next moment he had his arm around her shoulder. She leaned into him, and her head fell on his shoulder. Edmund froze. He hadn't expected her to accept his attempt to comfort her. His grip on her shoulder tightened and Hermione curled further in on herself, crying harder and clinging to him as if he was the only thing keeping her from floating away into the atmosphere.

Truth be told, Edmund had no idea how long they stayed like that. When, at last, Hermione's tears subsided, he reluctantly released her from his hold. Her head stayed on his shoulder until her breathing evened out. She sat up properly once more. He was relieved that she was no longer crying, but he felt oddly disappointed at the sudden lack of physical contact.

"I'm sorry." Edmund said quietly.

"Whatever for?" Hermione asked. "I'm the one who should be apologizing for my atrocious behavior. I suppose it's very unbecoming and unladylike of me to use a king's tunic as a tissue…" she remarked drily.

Edmund bit back a smile. Her wit was coming back to her. He decided that he much preferred a light-hearted Hermione to a crying one, but he wasn't opposed to being a tissue if it meant he could lend her the strength she needed. "It's fine," he responded, "So long as it helped?"

Hermione nodded, "Thanks. I…I think I've been bottling that all up for a long time. My mum says that it's not healthy to hold things in, but I didn't have anyone to talk to this summer." Hermione sighed and dropped her head into her hands. She rubbed at her temples and he could see the oncoming signs of a headache.

Edmund remembered feeling like that many times before coming to Narnia the first time. He nudged her arm, "Have you ever tried journaling?" he asked.

"Does it help?" Hermione asked.

"It did for me. I wrote all the time when we first came to Narnia. It helped me process everything. I wrote everything down. And after a while it wasn't just my memories anymore. It became my ideas, my opinions and thoughts about various topics, a quote from a poet, a few poems of my own, or a fact I found interesting. Then it became research and history; I was writing laws by my sixteenth birthday."

Hermione frowned looking impressed but slightly confused, "How old are you?"

"Fifteen," Edmund answered, "Well, sort of. Technically, it's my second time being fifteen. If we're being super accurate though…I've lived twenty-eight years of life already."

She was quiet for a few seconds. He could practically see the gears in her mind turning as she thought. Great. He internally kicked himself. If she didn't think he was crazy before, she definitely would now. After a moment she shrugged.

"Makes sense I suppose." She murmured to herself. Edmund lifted an eyebrow.

"It makes no sense at all," he countered. He himself was still trying to understand how time worked between here and England. He and Professor Kirke had many a late-night discussion about their own theories during the course of that first summer.

Hermione laughed, "It does though, if you think about it." Her tone changed to one that he equated with many of his former tutors and professors. "Obviously, time runs slower in England than it does here. If you were in Narnia for fifteen years, but only minutes passed in England that explains why you went backward in time upon your return home. The wardrobe acted as the time mechanism that reset everything to what it was before." She paused for a moment and began to twist a curl around her finger while she chewed on her bottom lip. "That would also account for the time discrepancy between your initial return and now, and of course why your home would be in ruins." She turned toward him. "Thoughts?" she asked.

He threw her a curious glance. This girl was turning out to be much more interesting than he ever could have imagined. She was smart, not just that, but brilliant. Could it really be that simple?

"With Aslan a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years like a day." Edmund quoted softly. The words warmed him. "Huh, I never thought of it that way before." The old verse skirted around the edge of his memory. He'd heard it before, but couldn't quite place where. It must have been Lucy who said it. It seemed like the type of thing she would have said back during their reign. Or maybe it was Mr. Beaver. He was always repeating rhymes and sayings at him and his siblings when they were younger. Edmund shook the fleeting thought from his mind. He stood up and offered a hand to Hermione.

"We really ought to be getting back to the others," he smirked, "They'll think we've been eaten by another wild bear."

"What did you mean earlier," she asked taking his hand. "when you said you didn't think it could talk at all?"

"I suppose we failed to mention that all native Narnians can talk, animals included?"

She threw a skeptical look at him…he just smirked again, hardly able to contain his amusement at her need to rationalize everything.

Her small frown faded into a sheepish look, "You're completely serious, aren't you?" she asked. Edmund just laughed and pulled her up from her place on the log.

oOoOo

"I don't remember this way," snapped Susan as she clambered over another boulder.

"That's the worst thing about girls…they can't carry a map in their head."

"That's because our heads have something in them," Lucy said shooting a sly look at Hermione and her sister. Hermione grinned smugly at Lucy in approval of her quick comment. She loved this girl more with each passing hour, and they'd been walking a fair few of them. Their party settled into a comfortable rhythm as they went. Harry and Peter led upfront, clearing their path as needed with their swords. Edmund and Trumpkin followed up the rear and kept watch, which left herself, Lucy and Susan to drift between them in the middle.

When she wasn't being entertained by the Pevensie siblings griping at one another, Hermione allowed her mind to wander. It was a beautiful sunny day, and she reveled in the peace of it, some part of her mind had finally calmed after her earlier discussion with Edmund. Her thoughts drifted the young man in question. He'd given her a lot to think about.

Hermione realized with a start that she'd been filtering everything through her muggle-born understanding of the world instead of the magical one she'd been learning in the last four years. But even in the wizarding world there were fundamental rules that governed the way magic actually worked. She was discovering that, perhaps she had to throw out even those rules and allow herself to learn Narnia's laws of nature, rather than assuming hers would suffice.

She hated starting from scratch, but she was nothing if not a learner.

"I really think we should have just listened to the DLF in the first place," said Susan as she adjusted her quiver on her shoulder.

"DLF?" asked Hermione. She'd been so in and out of her own head, she must have missed something.

"Dear Little Friend," supplied Lucy, shooting Susan a sneaky grin. Hermione suppressed the urge to laugh. Ginny would have loved that.

"That's not at all patronizing," muttered Trumpkin with a frown. His eyes were twinkling a little though. Hermione wondered if their band of humans were starting to grow on him.

Up ahead Peter stopped, climbed up on a bolder, and started scanning the area. "I'm not lost," he said to himself.

"No, you're just going the wrong way," grumped Trumpkin. Hermione rolled her eyes. The two of them had been arguing navigation for at least an hour now. Peter's voice grew irritated and commanding, as he assumed what she now referred to as his "High King Peter" voice. It made no room for argument and often left one feeling a bit like an incompetent child. Hermione inwardly cringed, thinking briefly of Percy, but that faded quickly.

"You said that the last you saw Caspian he was at the Shuddering Woods and the quickest way there is to cross at the river's rush."

"But unless I'm mistaken there is no crossing in these parts," Trumpkin said.

"That explains it then." Peter's eyes and tone of voice simultaneously hardened. "You're mistaken." Peter jumped down from the boulder he was standing upon. "The crossing should be here."

They walked several paces

"Aslan? It's Aslan!" Lucy cried suddenly. The others turned to look, startled by Lucy's outburst. Something deep in Hermione's gut tugged hard. There, shining in the sun was a quick flick of a golden tail, and then it was gone behind a huge fern growing over the side of the gorge. It happened so fast Hermione could have almost imagined it, if not for the flipping sensation in her stomach. "Can't you see him? He's right…" Lucy turned back and pointed to the fern. "…there." Her smile faded.

"Do you see him now?" asked Trumpkin hesitantly.

"I'm not crazy!" Lucy wheeled around to face her oldest brother; her voice was determined. "He was there, Peter. He wanted us to follow him."

"I'm sure that there are any number of lions in the wood, just like that bear."

"I think that I know Aslan when I see him." She declared.

"Look, I'm not about to jump off a cliff after someone who doesn't exist," replied Trumpkin. Harry stood awkwardly next to Susan and was keeping quiet. Hermione almost decided not to say anything, but that strange feeling tugged in her gut again, as if something was calling her, compelling her to follow, to speak.

"I…" Hermione butted in, she froze, suddenly feeling unsure of herself. "I thought I saw something too. I think Lucy's right."

"The last time I didn't believe Lucy," Edmund piped up. She shot him a grateful look. "well…I ended up looking pretty stupid," Edmund finished quietly, but with conviction. Hermione was struck by the fact that he didn't have to shout to hold their group's attention. There was authority in his tone, but humility at the same time. Peter quieted, and looked once more to where Lucy had pointed.

"But," his voice softened and cracked slightly, "why wouldn't I have seen him?"

Lucy frowned at Peter's response but remained resolute. "Maybe you weren't really looking." She had to hand it to that girl. When she believed in something there was no pushing her over.

Peter's eyes hardened, "I'm sorry, Lu." He started off in the other direction. Lucy's face fell. She looked crushed. Hermione tentatively reached out a hand and rested it on her shoulder. She smiled at the girl. Edmund's expression was stony, but he too remained silent. Harry shot Lucy a sympathetic look, but also turned away to follow Peter and Susan. Hermione sighed. This was turning into a very long afternoon.

oOoOo

Edmund rolled over once more trying in vain to get comfortable. Every since the argument at the gorge earlier in the day, Edmund had been fighting an excruciating headache. He knew he was just over-tired and probably a little dehydrated. They'd made it across but not without trouble. Bloody Telmarine outpost…they'd been so lucky they hadn't been seen, or he suspected they'd be stuck somewhere much more unpleasant than the hard ground around a campfire.

And Lucy. She'd been right all along, but had very nearly given himself and Peter a heart attack when the ground collapsed beneath her. He shook his head, sometimes he didn't understand Aslan's ways. He tried to shift into a more comfortable position, but stilled at the sound of Hermione's hushed tone.

"I'm sorry about earlier," Hermione whispered. "I shouldn't have slapped you. Will you forgive me?" she asked. There was a rustle of fabric on grass. Harry rolled over to face her. He propped himself up with one arm and plucked a random blade of grass. Guess he wasn't the only one having trouble sleeping.

Harry shook his head, "I was really, far out of line…I shouldn't have said anything at all, and you were only trying to help. It's me who should apologize." It was quiet for a few seconds then Harry spoke again, "You're stronger than you look," Harry said with a half-smile and a low chuckle. "No wonder Malfoy hid from you for a week." Hermione laughed softly. Edmund could tell she was trying not to wake the others. The sound was muffled, as if she were covering her mouth with her hand.

"I slugged him pretty good, didn't I?"

"Ron still reckons that you broke his nose…" said Harry playfully. Edmund could help but smirk. By the sounds of it, Hermione had a mean right hook. The two of them fell quiet again. "We're good 'Mione, really."

"Good."

"If it's any conciliation…between Peter and Su…I got what I deserved."

"Su? On nick-name basis already, Harry? I'm impressed." Hermione asked with a teasing tone. Edmund blushed at the implication. He really didn't want to hear about his older sister flirting with their new friend.

"I…" Harry stuttered, but then his voice strengthened, "I like her…she's smart like you, but she has a good sense of humor, and she's really kind…" Harry trailed off. "I think she must have been like my mum…at least…from the stories I've heard about her anyway. Do you think she would have liked her?"

"I dunno Harry," said Hermione sadly, "But I think your mum would have been proud of you no matter what….and your dad."

Harry sighed, "I wish I'd known them, Hermione." Edmund's eyebrows shot upward into his hairline. He had not expected that. Harry Potter was an orphan.

"I know…" They went silent. After a while, Edmund wondered if they'd finally drifted off to sleep until Harry spoke up again.

"Hermione…"

"Hmm?"

"You're the closest thing I have to family, you know that…right?" Harry asked. She nodded, "And you know I'd never want to cause you trouble or unnecessary pain…right?" he led.

The question hung in the air between them. Edmund was keenly aware that Harry was testing Hermione for any sign of residual anger, that he was treading carefully over a subject that could set itself up for tension between them once more.

"Harry?" she asked trying to hold in her growing apprehension. At least she sensed it too. It made Edmund feel a little less nervous, but only a little. It had taken him the better half of the afternoon to cheer her up and he didn't relish the idea of having to do it again. Harry took a deep breath.

"Diggory…" Harry prompted gently. He licked his lips nervously, "…did you love him?"

Edmund heard Hermione inhale abruptly. He suddenly found it difficult to keep his eyes closed and his breathing even. He knew that this was a conversation that he really shouldn't be privy to, but he couldn't help but want to hear her answer.

"How…how did you know?" Hermione asked with a shaky breath.

"I was distracted last year…but I'm not blind…I saw you two once, in the library." He propped himself up once more. Hermione faced him briefly and then turned her gaze back to the stars. "Tell me…"

Hermione released a long sigh. Her voice was watery. "I…we never really got a chance to find out…" she sniffed. Edmund could tell she was holding back tears...again. He thought she'd cried them all out earlier. "…it seems so stupid…"

"But if things had been different?" asked Harry, "If…if he'd survived?" Edmund's eyes flew open. He was thankful that it was dark. His heart was hammering in his chest.

"Had we the chance…I think…maybe…yes?" She finally admitted. Her breath hitched, "How do you manage it Harry? You were there when it happened."

Edmund cringed. His heart clenched in his chest. It finally made sense…the grief he saw in her eyes at Cair Paravel. The far-off look on Harry's face, when he thought no one was watching. His dad called it Shell Shock; and when Edmund started having his episodes after Beruna, he and Peter dubbed it 'combat stress'. _"It's not as if I haven't seen someone die before…_" The events that transpired earlier in the day suddenly had context. No wonder she'd clapped him across the face.

Harry released a ragged breath, and suddenly Edmund felt bad for him, he and Peter both knew well enough how awful it was to watch a friend die, surely had to have taken a toll on him as well. The difference between Harry and Hermione, so he was discovering, was that Harry got angry and Hermione withdrew.

"I don't…" Harry admitted, "All summer long I relived it every night in my dreams." There was a soft tinkling. "That night hasn't left me anymore than it has you Hermione…and I'd wager that it's been a lot harder on you than you've let on." Edmund finally turned his head just enough to see them. Harry sat up and held out a necklace with a small glowing (why was it glowing?) white orb on it. She pushed herself off the ground with her hands, her eyes widening in curiosity looked up at Harry, brows narrowed in confusion.

"Harry…what is this?"

"It's for you. He…he asked me to give it to you, Cedric…he gave it to me the night he died." Her eyes snapped firmly to Harry's. She reached out to take it, but hesitated, her hand hung frozen in mid-air.

Harry pushed her shoulder gently so that she would turn around. He unclasped the chain. Edmund snapped his eyes shut as Hermione turned her back to Harry and gathered her thick curls up in her hand.

There was silence for a moment. "He wanted me to tell you," Harry took a deep breath, "tell you that he loved you." Edmund fought to keep his breathing calm. He could feel the agony coming off of her in waves and it cut through him like the harsh sting of a winter wind, as if it were his own pain.

"Mione," Harry wiped away a silent tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "You're not in it alone." He smiled and tugged on a wayward curl.

"Neither are you." They laid back down, snuggling deep into their cloaks. Nothing further was said between them. It wasn't long before Harry's breathing evened out and Edmund knew he'd fallen asleep.

Edmund's thoughts raced as he tried to make sense of the overheard conversation. Hermione Granger never ceased to surprise him with her compassion. Even in the midst of her own misery, she was trying to remain steadfast and encouraging in her support of Harry.

Something inside of him crumbled. Edmund knew it was his defenses cracking and falling away. He never should have mistrusted Aslan's reasoning in bringing them to Narnia. It was becoming quite apparent that these two needed Narnia just as much as he and his siblings had when they first came to Narnia. With that thought floating in his mind, Edmund tried to fall asleep once more.


End file.
